


It Ain't Tea and Crumpets Kermit

by rothalion



Category: Army Of Two (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rothalion/pseuds/rothalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guys are home on leave after the month long recon op and spend 4th of July at First Sergeant Benedict's and Salem is not at all pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wonder Bread Man House

** It Ain’t Tea and Crumpets Kermit **

_ Fourth of July  _

_ Gabe Benedict’s House  _

_ 1993 _

 

            First Sergeant Gabe Benedict looked out of the sparkling glass of the big bay window dominating the front of his brick home in the country outside of Fort Benning. The driveway was full of vehicles and as he watched, Giddy’s black Ford 4x4 truck pulled up and parked along the curb blocking the matching brick mailbox. Several men jumped from the bed and three exited the cab. They headed up the fire brick walking toward the gate leading into the backyard; talking, jostling and laughing, all carrying duffle bags and cases of beer. One man, toting a well-worn duffle right handed and clutching a single beer bottle in his left, stopped just a quarter of the way to the house obviously hesitant to follow the group. Gabe sighed and shook his head.

            “Come on Salem; it’s a Fourth of July BBQ not a fucking debutant ball.”

            “Say something Gabe?” His long-time girlfriend Dorrie asked, sideling up alongside him and wrapping her left arm around his waist.

            He leaned into her, kissed the top of her head enjoying the fresh scent of the shampoo in her tawny colored hair and looked back at the approaching men. The squad was home for a month long leave after the long recon op and he relished in the tall, pretty woman’s nearness. Her perfume, her body, her intelligence and confidence had instantly endeared the career soldier to her nearly fifteen years ago when they’d met at a black tie gala for an on post charity. Ordered to attend the event as a representative of his unit, the young Ranger was completely out of his element and Dorrie, the child of a wealthy defense contractor and well versed in the etiquette of galas, noted with a bit of whimsy, the beleaguered man’s distress and came to his rescue; tactfully extracting him from the clutches of a snooty, bed hopping southern belle named Gwendolyn. The chemistry, if one believed in the notion, was overwhelming and they still remained just as enrapt with one another as they’d been all those long years ago.

       Unfortunately despite their mutual devotion they led very separate lives. Dorrie as a highly skilled operative for the CIA and Gabe as a less than _entirely_ successful, depending on your definition of successful, Army Ranger. Because of their demanding careers they’d early on set aside the idea of a traditional family; so for the Benedicts, Gabe’s kids’ as they referred to the man’s team at any given time, was their bevy of unruly children. Their home was even set up to house any of the wayward ‘kids’ who needed a safe place to decompress. Two of the five bedrooms had double sets of bunk beds and two had furnishings for single occupants. If the couple required more space the fully finished basement slash recreation room slept six, but typically the arrangement sufficed. Gabe had tried in vain to persuade Salem to take a room during the sorely needed vacation; feeling that a nice homey environment would work wonders to ease the man’s troubled soul. Salem adamantly refused the kind offer though, going as far as threatening to leave town for the duration of the teams stay if Top persisted.

       As Dorrie watched the group walk up she tried to push aside her concerns. This particular bevy of eight had become especially close and Gabe felt a far stronger affinity to the group than he’d ever felt with countless past squads. In his letters he’d railed to her about their foibles and brilliance, their humor and grief and Dorrie worried that after so many long years of raising ‘his guys’ Gabe was letting this group get too close. War was a thankless game and her work behind the scenes provided a glimpse of a coming reality that Gabe could not, or more pointedly, the government would not allow him to see. This group, should they stay active, had long years of fighting ahead of them and with that fighting came much grief.

       “Problem dad?”

       “Salem.”

       Dorrie looked out at the scene. Salem stood head down with Rios beside him. She smiled at the sight. The drastic difference in the two men’s size made her chuckle. It was apparent in the photos Gabe had mailed her but seeing the pair in person made it more pronounced. To compound the disparity they wore civilian clothes. Rios, faded Levis and a snug green army issue tee shirt and Salem new Levis and an over large teal blue tee shirt. Both sported fresh bright white sneakers. Rios’ low and Salem’s high and untied, the cuffs of his stiff pants and the wayward laces tucked partly behind the puffy tongues. He topped the affair with his old, battered, good luck patrol cap characteristically on backwards. A week’s worth of stubble and his trade mark shaggy hair showed that he’d obviously been steering well clear of the barber since arriving two weeks ago.

       “He’s adorable.”

       “Which one!”

     Dorrie punched Gabe in the shoulder and laughed.

     “Well Salem, silly. Of all of them over the years if I had to turn back the clock to adopt one it would be him. He’s just so…so…needy.”

       “Needy?” He queried tersely. “Fucking needy? More like a cuddly puppy that grows up to be Cujo. Tyannikov calls him, Маленький Барсук, Little Badger. Now _that’s_ fitting. I don’t think he’s gonna come in Dor. And yea you are right; Salem is probably as needy as they come.”

       “I know dear; I am a profiler remember.”

      “I do, and for god sakes do not let him find that out. He’ll catch the first hop outta here and be back in Africa in no time.”

       They watched as he turned and began to walk back toward the street. Rios followed and in two long strides had the smaller man by his right elbow. Rios spun him around and Elliot shook free bristling with anger. He took a final swig of the beer and tossed the empty perfectly into the bed of Giddy’s truck then started to walk toward the road once more. Tyson grabbed him again and this time held both of his biceps.

        "We should go out and greet them. Might help to ease his mind a bit.”

       “Yea, right behind you, Dor. Let’s go ease Elliot’s addled and needy mind.”

      “Stop.” She scolded reaching for the door knob. “He reminds me of a certain young Ranger, awkwardly clad in his never before worn dress uniform, at his first black tie event and surrounded by what he described at the time as ‘mindless brass adorned buffoons’.”

        “Hmm, and I remember a gorgeous young beauty in mint green chiffon whose primary objective was to get that Ranger out of his new dress uniform as quickly as possible.”

      They exited laughing at the memory and waited for the pair on the porch while listening to the argument.

       “I swear Salem you baffle me! It’s a _BBQ_ ; it ain’t fucking tea and Crumpets Kermit. You drink beer and get shit faced; I know you can handle that. You eat real food and not some chow hall slop. You mingle. You talk to Dorrie and meet Samantha when she gets here later. Then tonight we do the fireworks and blow shit up for fun. Explosions Salem; you like explosions right?”

        “I do not want to talk to Dorrie! I don’t want to meet your, your _girl-friend_! I am happy with chow hall slop and I am perfectly capable of getting shit faced all alone in the hotel room where I do not have to mingle! The only explosion’s gonna be when I fuck something up.”

       Salem jammed his hands deep into his pockets and studied his shoes balefully while listening to Rios’ argument.

       “What can you possibly fuck up Elliot? It’s a party with friends. Everyone’s military, everyone’s known Gabe for years. Just relax and come on in. It’s like family. Pedro, his wife and his kids are coming and he’s dying to introduce you to them. Some of Gabe’s old squad guys, family Salem.”

       “It’s a god-damned- house, Rios!” Elliot finally growled out, his desperation suddenly brutally clear to Tyson. “A real Wonder Bread Man house!”

       That stopped the bigger man cold.

        “A what? A Wonder Bread Man…What are you babbling about Elliot? Well yea it’s a house. What were you expecting Salem, a fucking GP Large with a pool out back?”

       “The fucking Wonder Bread Man Tyse! Haven’t you ever heard of the Wonder Bread Man?” He squawked incredulously pulling his cap off and slapping it against his right thigh annoyed with Rios’ ignorance.

       Then shaking his head mournfully he looked toward the house and back up at Rios. Now it was Salem’s turn to argue his point and his frantic arm waving and posturing left little doubt in Gabe’s mind that he was at his wits end.

        “What, what if I break something, spill something, curse or say the wrong thing, use the wrong fork, miss the toilet, not like the food, step on some one’s foot, not follow the conversation, lose my temper, fart, burp, soil the furniture, have the wrong opinion…fuck Rios a million things can, could, _will_ go wrong. I don’t fucking know how to act in a family, in a house that’s a home, Tyse. I lived in a fucking one room shanty and slept on the floor of a bug infested closet. Things weren’t much better in any of the fucking homes they dumped me in either. There are real people in there, Tyse! I’m…” He paused and shrugged trying to find the right words to convey his discomfiture. “I’m nothing. I don’t belong in _there_ with regular, properly trained people. All I know is shacks and cells and barracks.”

       Tyson stared down at him heartbroken. The look on Elliot’s face was a mix of desperation and anguish frighteningly akin to how the young man looked after they’d piled into the chopper after the ambush mission and Salem, for whatever reason, did not possess the emotional tools to manage the onslaught of worrisome feelings. He knew that Salem was nervous about hanging out at Gabe's for the BBQ but the depth of Elliot’s self-consciousness about his manners stunned him. After all this was Salem. A man typically too self-confident for his own good. A man who would charge straight into machine gun fire and attack men three times his size over a mere slight at the rec center but now, for the first since they’d been partnered up, Tyson had to find a way to come to terms with a terrified Salem. Rios knew fear when he saw it and Elliot was truly afraid he would commit one of the social gaffs he’d systematically rattled off. He knew as well that this was not a situation to take lightly despite the seemingly foolish nature of it. Salem was genuinely afraid and Tyson knew that if he mishandled Salem’s fear it would breach the fragile trust he’d worked so diligently to build with his young partner. He sighed and tried to make eye contact.

       “Hey, Ellie, hey.” He reached out and grasped Salem’s left shoulder firmly. “Hey man look at me. You will be fine. You have manners Ellie. You’re smart and skilled and hell I’ve met most of these guys and trust me Salem any and all of them would serve with you in heartbeat. Dorrie’s great and you already met her twice out at the bar right; so that’s all outta the way. Come on now, it’s Top, Elliot. His house, that house Ellie; it’s set up for us. _Us_ Elliot, Top’s guys. We do this whenever we’re all home together. This-is-home. This is family; and Ellie maybe you  never had one before but when they _dumped_ you with us, Gabe’s Guys, you got one whether you wanted one or not.”

       He stopped and let his words sink in. He watched Salem struggle to accept the gentle admonition while trying to decide whether or not to trust that Rios wouldn’t lead him astray. Finally Rios tilted his head toward the home and nodded. To emphasize his command to follow him he took Salem’s bag from his right hand and retrieved his own with his left then turned and began to walk. When Salem still hesitated Tyson paused and waited patiently. Defeated, Elliot slapped the cap on backwards again, huffed and plodded after him like a recalcitrant hound dog

       Dorrie and Gabe left the shady porch, strolled between the fuchsia colored Azaleas lining the brick walk and met the duo halfway.

       “Gabe, Dorrie.”

       “Hey, Tyson, Fifty. I’m really glad you decided to come, Elliot, thank you.”

      “Rios ordered me. Morning, ma ’me.”

       “Good morning Elliot, and please we have been over this, call me Dorrie. Come on now the guys are all out back already. Elliot this way first though. We’ll go through the house and I’ll show you your room for the weekend. So how has your leave been Elliot, going well, relaxing?” She prattled hooking her left arm through his right at his elbow and scooting him along the sidewalk once he’d grabbed his bag back from Tyson, leaving Gabe and Rios behind.

       “So.” Gabe began as they watched the pair walk away. “How’s he doing?”

       Rios laughed and started walking.

       “He’s not, Gabe. He’s got me worried actually. He stays in the room and drinks. He barely eats, won’t go out with us, his biggest concern is his Fifty back at the base; hell the boy had no clothes, Gabe. One beat to shit pair a jeans that looked like he’d been dragging them around for years. I finally hauled him down to the mall to buy some new clothes. How do you not have clothes? I know we don’t need them over there but damn it man I don’t think he’d worn those old jeans since coming in. Didn’t fit him for shit. What’s he gonna do when we get out for good?”

       “Maybe he’ll re-up.”

      “He says no way but who knows with Salem.”

       “How’d he like the mall? Fifty does not impress me as mall material?”

       Tyson laughed aloud as he pushed through the redwood stained cedar gate.

       “That good hunh? Must have made for quite the mission.”

       “Top I’d have rather ferreted out a nest of suicide bombers from a village of mud hovels in the dead of night, during a sandstorm, while being plinked at by snipers as good as Salem.”

       “That good?”

       “That good.”

 

 

 

 


	2. It Ain't Tea and Crumpets Kermit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rios drags Elliot to the mall to buy some sorely needed civilian clothes.

**__ **

**__ **

**__ **

**_ Note: _ ** _C.P. is Courtesy Patrol. For those not familiar with this, it is basically a detachment of folks that prowl around on military posts and in the surrounding community at malls and other places where soldiers visit, insuring that soldiers behave appropriately. This entails watching for gaffs in behavior as well as dress code violations. Where I was stationed they wore a black arm band with yellow or gold letters CP on them. They had the ability to ruin your day. I’ve been with fellow soldiers who were dressed down while visiting the local mall in civvies, after a four day weekend camping trip, for having not shaved. So that said the fellows need to watch for these guys as the story unfolds._

**__ **

**_ PEACHTREE MALL _ **

_ Two weeks earlier _

__

       “Still think this is stupid. Look at this mess. Look at this parking lot Tyse, oh and you’re gonna fucking park eighty nine miles away to boot, god damn Rios you kill me sometimes. Bowling and ice skating and ice cream fucking cones; god just gimme a boring recon op and save me from this chaos. Rios please don’t make me go.”

       “You’re going. You need some clothes and shit we’re getting you some. Besides I’m tired of you taking my cologne. You need to buy your own. Move out.”

       “Buy my own, buy my own, sure fat ass; yours fucking reeks anyway.”

       “What’d you say Salem?” Rios growled.

       “Nothing.”

      Salem slogged along behind Rios through the mall parking lot reflecting upon how different he’d become since joining the army. He looked at Rios marching several feet ahead of him and sighed. He still hadn’t told the big Ranger about his lost wife and daughter and a surge of butterflies fluttered in his gut. The feeling was partly guilt for keeping it from Rios and part anxiety over how the man would react when he finally did tell him. It betrayed their trust keeping such a personal secret but Salem just wasn’t ready to share that part of himself yet. He growled low in his throat and let the old memories play out in his head.

       Back before prison would steal a car with Jennifer, his girlfriend and future wife, and drive to the nearest big mall and wander around wishing they had the money to buy all the wonderful items other folks had. They’d spend hours just browsing but because they were not dressed as well as the other shoppers security typically keyed on them rather quickly and often tailed them through which ever store they browsed in. Salem had readily become adept at marking and losing the hunters and the pair seldom left without heisting items of value that they could pawn or sell to make enough to buy some drugs or alcohol. Food, it seemed, too often took the back burner to funding a party. Now he had the money to spend but absolutely no desire for anything in any of the stores.

       Back then, before losing Jennifer he’d thought that money was the answer to everything but now, now he just wasn’t as sure. Jennifer’s family was loaded with money and where had that gotten her. It damn sure hadn’t bought her the love of her family and for Salem, more than owning clothes and shoes; it was having a family that drove him. If money couldn’t get that then who needed it? Salem knew that all she had to do was dump him, ask and her father would provide anything she wanted. She loved him though and refused the command, so she went without just as Salem did and they both grew to love the enjoyable mall missions.

       “You know Tyse back before prison I used to jack a car and drive to the big mall about seventy miles from where I grew up and shoplift the place blind. We’d…I’d hit a restaurant, eat like a king and walk out on my bill. Then I’d gawk at all the nice shit I’d never have, steal another ride and go back to my miserable life. I wanted everything back then and now, I feel sick just looking at this fucking place.”

       “Shoplifting? Why am I not surprised? You do that here and I’ll break your fucking arm, Salem. Worse even than Tyannikov did.”

       “Come on Tyse; just something small, something to always remember this wonderful little shopping spree. It’ll relax me.”

       Tyson stopped short and Elliot bumped into him. Turning quickly he grabbed the smaller man by the collar of his shirt and hoisted him upwards until they were eye to eye. A passing shopper gasped at the exchange and hustled her children quickly away from the conflict.

       “Do not; I repeat do not steal anything from this mall, Salem. You have money now; therefore you have _absolutely_ no reason to steal. You see something you like, just buy it Elliot. If you can’t afford it then save up for it. Hear me Salem? I am serious. There’s cameras and security and ink bomb thingies but more critically there is me Salem. There is me and I will beat you senseless if you compromise me by stealing from this mall.”

       Elliot stared across at Rios trying his best not to smirk. The big soldier seemed genuinely concerned he’d steal something which only served to embolden him. He looked away and tipped his head toward another pair of shoppers. Two big guys, obviously military by their look, heading for their vehicle he smiled demurely and shrugged at them.

       “He’s very possessive. He’s just warning me not to glass your asses after you pass us.”

       “God damn it Salem! That’s it get back in the fucking truck!”

       Rios dropped him and Elliot smoothed down the front of his army issue tee shirt while smiling innocently at the scowling duo.

       “What Rios what? Five weeks stuck up on a freezing mountain and then five months in a fucking desert, a man’s allowed to look Tubby; come on. You brought me here to shop. I am only shopping. Their eye candy, only eye candy!”

       “Yea Salem; well shop this. Get moving, let’s just get you some clothes or the only thing you’ll need to shop for is a surgeon to remove my foot from your skinny little ass!”

       “Only your foot! Fuck me twice! Shh…” He cautioned leaning toward the pair with his finger over his lips. “Hey guys, don’t ask don’t tell.”

       They shot him a thumbs up and Salem waved at the pair who were now laughing at the silly encounter then started back toward a single door, side entrance of the mall. Just as they reached it he paused with his hand on the handle.

       “You know Tubby; I was calculating on the eighty nine mile walk here that if I had a buck for every time in the last five months you’ve threatened to shove your foot up my skinny little ass I wouldn’t have to steal. So that said, at ten times a day, plus oh at least four days a week, that’s forty and I’ll add three for long months so forty-three times a month…”

       “Excuse us we’d like to go inside please.”

       “Shh, back off lady. I’m doing some math here; have some patience. Where was I? Forty-three times a month, times five months that’s forty multiplied by five is two hundred…”

       “Mister!”

        “Hey lady blame the fat one there; it’s him who’s always threatening to put his foot up my ass.”

       “Sal…Kermit!” Rios changed up not wanting give up their names.

       “Two hundred…and three times five is another fifteen; so at a minimum two hundred and fifteen times total but hey that’s fucking low balling it. So let’s just say forty times a day and make your contribution twenty bucks an anal boot insertion and that’s well, that would be…”

       “I am Mrs. Colonel Bertrand Henderson and I demand to know who your commanding officer is!”

      Salem stopped, stood up straighter, flipped his old cap around frontwards and Rios groaned. Nobody demanded anything from the younger man. Elliot might follow and order without question but if you took up a tone and demanded…well the man just simply did not respond well to that sort of treatment.

      “Ma’am I’ll handle him. Please just back off Kermit and let the nice ladies pass by. Come on now; you do that and I’ll let you steal something this time, ok.”

      “Steal! That’s it as soon as I see a CP I’m warning him about you two. I have an excellent memory for names _and_ faces. Kermit and Tubby, big and dark and little and vulgar.”

       “Nice one Tubby. Now she thinks I’m both a manner-less, little ass, vulgar thug and a fucking thief. What was it you were demanding again ma’am? Oh my commanding officer that’s right, well you can demand until you’re as blue in the face as your hair is but that’s none of your god damned business. Let’s go Tubby. I’m tired of going commando,” Then leaning in toward Mrs. Henderson he whispered in her ear. “That’s going without underwear ma’am.” Then standing straight again, “and having my zipper snag in my pubes. So good day ladies, the big dark one and I have some underwear shopping to do.”

       At that he tipped his hat, slapped it back on backwards, tossed a two fingered salute at the shocked trio of older women and slipped through the door. Rios snagged it as it closed in their flushed faces and politely motioned for them to enter. They did making their way rapidly down the long hallway and into the main mall area.

      “What was that? What in the holy fuck was that Salem? Fuck me twice Salem. Just what were you thinking?”

       “I’m thinking you owe me $16,300.00. That’ll buy me quite a few pairs of underwear. Keep my poor beleaguered pubes safe for a while.”

       Rios could only stare at him in disbelief. He’d spent a good deal of time hanging with a less than rule abiding crowd growing up, but none of them compared to Salem went it came down to the man’s ability to behave with such uncompromising insolence.

       “Beleaguered, it’s me who’s beleaguered. You’re a sociopath aren’t you?”

       “I think it has, on several occasions, been discussed, yes.” He agreed far too readily and a bit too prideful for Rios’ liking. “I believe they described it as and I quote, ‘Sociopathic with a unnaturally strong need, bordering upon compulsion, to please a father type figure; which if managed appropriately would lend toward the development of a highly functional fighting machine; which when commanded by the appropriately bonded surrogate father figure could be aimed in a direction and sent off to complete even the most suicidal of tasks with a near flawless degree of mission success.’ Yep, sociopathic but in a controlled way. I’m hungry; food court first or a sit down place? Like I said I can scab our…”

       “Shut up and move out before I kill you.”

       “Roger that, CP’s probably inbound by now anyway. Remember Tyse, we need to dodge those fucks; they’ll be gunning for us for sure, fucking old blue haired bat. Just try and melt in with the crowd Rios, ok? Don’t stand out. Hunch up if you have to. Remember how good it worked for me with the Corona investigation. And Tyse if they tag us just let me do the talking kay?”

       “Salem I swear to god… I know that you typically don’t say shit but I’m thinkin’ you’ve done more than enough talking for today. So just shut the fuck up until we leave!”

        They ate at Chick-Fil-A because Salem said he’d never eaten there before and Tyannikov had told him he loved to eat there whenever he was state side. Because of who’d suggested it Rios wasn’t thrilled with the choice, but he was glad to see that Salem ordered two Spicy Chicken sandwiches without pickles, an order of chicken nuggets and a large order of waffle fries. It was more food than he’d eaten since they’d hit Georgia a week ago.

      Lunch out of the way the pair headed off to clothe Salem. Despite Rios’ efforts the younger man balked at browsing from store to store and after a brief debate on the best store for just getting what he needed they headed for Sears.

       “Ok Ellie pants first. What do you like?”

       “Levis, kinda always wanted some of those.”

      “Good; see now we’re making progress. Color?”

        “Levis are blue.”

      “They come in colors. Size?”

       “I don’t know Tyse. Thirty-four waist, same length?”

       “Don’t get exasperated. Here thirty-four, thirty-fours, 505’s, boot cut try those. Go on, get a number from the lady and go in there. Here try the thirty-twos too you never know.”

       Salem took the proffered jeans and headed for the dressing rooms. The lady clerk eyed him warily before handing him a plastic hang tag with the number two on it and a key attached to a ten inch piece of PVC pipe by a thin chain. He slogged into the dressing room and studied the doors. Then confused he studied the hang tag. Sure enough it had a number two. Sighing he turned and walked back to Rios who stopped him in his tracks.

       “Don’t even try and tell me you tried them on, Elliot.”

      Salem studied the folded jeans, gave up on lying and held out the blue hang tag.

       “Ok and the problem is?”

      He held up his key.

       "Yes it’s a key, Salem.”

       Behind her counter the clerk was keenly watching the exchange. If this was some sort of shoplifting gag, she’d never encountered it before. The smaller man seemed to be genuinely confused.

       “She gave me a key for door number two.” Salem whispered snatching a glance at the petite brunette. “The doors are not fucking marked. Is it two from the right or two from the left or some secret shopping code?”

       Rios looked down at him. He found it inconceivable that Salem had never tried on clothes before.

       “When you were stateside, not deployed, what the fuck did you wear when you were not on duty Salem?”

       “Nothing, well I never did anything. I just trained. I didn’t take time to do anything. Rarely left post.”

       It wasn’t a lie really. Even during the brief times he’d spent with Jennifer and his daughter Ellie the trio stayed in relishing in their precious time together. He just wore army stuff.

      “Gimme the key.” Rios snapped taking it from Salem. “Follow me Kermit.”

      Just as they started into the dressing rooms she stopped them.

       “Just one of you. You have to wait out here.”

      Rios sighed and approached the counter. He took out his wallet and tossed his VISA card at her. Then leaning in close and whispering he told her,

      “He’s new to this. Just got off a plane from growing up in a horrible Siberian orphanage. His father, an American spy, abandoned him there on a church door step after his Russian mother died in child birth. Poor bastard’s never been shopping before. That’ll cover anything you think we might be stealing. Just gimme a second.”

      She took his card and nodded toward the door and a smiling Salem.

     Rios returned to him and brusquely stated the only full phrase he knew in Russian trying to make the lie as real as possible.

       “Get down on the floor and put your hands behind your head!”

     “What!” Salem squawked.

       “Just get in there.” He snapped in a whisper pushing a confused Salem through the curtained doorway. “Here try the key in the second door from the left.”

       Salem did and it opened.

       “Good close it and try this one; two from the right.”

      He followed Rios’ instructions and that door opened. He looked at the bigger man incredulously.

    “Listen Salem, you hang the number on the door knob like so. That tells her how many things you have in there. Two in and two out, helps stop stealing. All the locks are the same.”

     Salem studied the slowly swinging tag and sighed.

     “Well what’s to stop me from coming when it’s really busy, with a matching plastic tag, with a number one and just jacking an item and handing in the other and my fake tag?”

      Rios shook his head.

      “Get in the god damned room and try on the pants, Elliot. Then I wanna see each pair on you. So come out after each one.”

       “Model ‘em! She’s out there.”

       “No just show me, your partner, the fit.”

     He left the rooms and retrieved his card from the confused clerk. She noted his distress and played her part as a concerned sale associate.

       “Is your Siberian friend ok? Must be an awfully difficult transition.”

        Rios stared at her. Did she actually believe his story?

       “Yes Mindy, he’ll be fine provided I don’t find a reason to send him back. Thanks.”

       Salem came out in the blue thirty-fours. They fit well. A little loose but not so much that they appeared baggy. Rios told him as much and sent him back in. A few minutes later he reappeared in the black thirty-twos and before Rios could say anything Mindy rushed from around the counter and joined them.

       “That’s the fit! Tell him. Does he speak English?”

       Salem studied the pair and Rios gave him a sign that said to just play along.

       “Yes, just speak very slowly and enunciate clearly.”

      “My name-is-Min-dy. Wel-come to America. That is the fit you are after. They look very nice on you. Any woman would find you very attractive in them.”

       “Tell her thank you, Barsukh. That is good American manners. Understand?”

        “Da, da, thank you, Min-dy.” He muttered coarsely.

       “You are so welcome. Now you can just set those here and when you are ready to check out come back, ok.”

        “Da.”

      Salem followed Rios back out into the clothing section and pulled him up short.

        “What the fuck was that?”

       “I told her you didn’t know how to shop because you just got here after growing up in a Siberian orphanage. She’s into you though man. You should ask her out. Babble sweet Russian nothings in her ear and you be in her pants in a jiffy. Here one pair each, thirty-twos and fours blue and black. Come on we’ll pay and head out for shirts and shoes, nothing here really stands out.”

       Salem cringed at the idea of dating Mindy and headed back to the counter.

       “All set?”

       “Da, yes.”

        “Good, now since you are a new American how would you like to apply for your very first credit card? Get approved and you will save fifty percent on any purchases you make in Sears today. Did he get that? Was I too fast?”

       “Da.” Salem said quickly.

       “Nyet” Rios countered tersely.

       “Excuse me.”

      “Da, Mindy, he got it and nyet no he doesn’t.”

       “Da, fifty percent minus off is a good deal for Zoor Choot.” Salem argued reminding himself to speak haltingly.

       “Ok then just fill this out and bring it back.”

       Salem filled out the brief application and returned it to Mindy.

       “Oh, the Army, wow, they take folks like you… well you know what I mean.”

        “Translator, he’s a translator. Russian to Tagalog.”

      “Ok just let me call you in.”

       They duo sat down on a nearby bench and waited.

       “Are you crazy Salem? You of all people do not need credit cards. And Sears, Sears is impossible to get. They’ve denied me twice man. And what about Mindy, once she starts reading it your cover’s blown. No date with her ever.”

       “Russian to Tagalog, that’s choice, Bro.”

      “Hey, what if I picked something regular and it turned out she’s fluent? Just covering our asses.”

       “Our cover. Ilya’s probably spinning out of control. I can’t believe you just stole his life story like this. It’s wrong Tyse very wrong. Ok here she comes.”

      “Yup prepare to be de-clined.”

      “Ok congratulations! You are now a proud Sears card holder, Barsukh. Now I will ring these pants up and you can continue your shopping experience in Sears and get big American savings.”

      “Hah! take that. Zoor Choot has good American credit.” Salem jeered slapping Rios’ left shoulder and pushing him back from the counter. “Sears is impossible to get. Sor…ry!”

       “Wow, that was great English! Were you practicing while I was away?”

        Salem stopped laughing and cleared his throat.

       “Nyet, no but sometimes when Barsukh, me is relaxed the English it comes easier.”

      “Oh that makes sense. Ok your total with your fifty percent off is sixty-five, fifty. This is your card confirmation to show as you continue to shop and you should receive your card in two to six weeks. Will that be cash or a debit card?”

        “Debit.”

       Two hours later they finally left Sears with shirts, shoes, the much needed underwear and assorted miscellaneous items. Salem had now completely succumbed to the idea that shopping was fun. Once in the mall they headed into a restaurant with a bar and had a few beers. Fortified by the alcohol and still laughing childishly over Tyson’s Russian cover story the two headed out to finish the days tasks.

       Salem now browsed the shop windows. He didn’t really purchase much but Tyson was happy to see the younger man finally enjoying himself. They slowed outside of a jewelry store and Rios looked at the twinkling rings in the case.

     “Bro, those are engagement rings.” Salem whispered somewhat reverently.

       “Yea man, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Me and Sam, it’s been nearly five years and I’m sure she’s the one. She’s not perfect but hell, look what she has to put up with. Five years and I bet I haven’t been home for more than a total of a year and half all together. She puts up with it, Salem and that can’t be easy to find.”

       Salem’s stomach flipped. No it wasn’t and who would know that better than he would. That was after all why his Jennifer had taken her life and Ellie’s. She couldn’t bear the idea of Salem being gone all the time.

       “No I don’t guess so, Tyse. Must be hell on wives. Still, getting hitched, that’s a big step.”

       “Yea, let’s go in; there’s more inside.”

       Reluctantly Salem followed him in. He moved away to give Rios some privacy with the clerk and perused the cases alone. Off to the side he discovered one with men’s silver chains. All of his life he’d come across items he coveted but owning a fine silver chain was something that for some reason he’d set high on his wish list. Two years before going to prison he’d been hired by Orlov, his Russian fence, to steal a batch from a rival dealer and while studying the take after delivering it he’d fallen in love with the warm silver accessories. Orlov told him that the silver was magical, that it kept the wearer safe from all manner of frightful dangers. After that Elliot had promised himself that he’d someday own one.

       A clerk noticed his interest and came over.

       “Can I show you something, sir?”

      “Which sir, me sir, me? Ah no…well yea, I don’t know. That one. The thicker one there in the middle? Can I see that one?”

      “Certainly. Let me get that out for you. It’s Sterling Silver and comes with a hallmark. This is an eighteen inch but I think you might need something a little longer. Here what do you think?”

       Salem fingered the shiny chain carefully. He might not be educated in the use of dressing rooms but he knew how to judge jewelry. It was indeed Sterling and of a high quality. The price and fact that it came with a Hallmark backed up his assessment. The links were not huge but thick and just the right size. It felt nice in his palm.

      “Try this one on; this is twenty inches.”

        Salem blinked at the man, returned the first chain and turned round so the longer one could be set around his neck. The jeweler’s fingers were cold when the brushed against Elliot’s skin and his shuddered slightly. Across the store Rios happened to look over and surprised that the younger man was trying something on smiled broadly and headed over.

       “There all set, here’s a mirror. The fit is good I think. You look like an active fellow so it hangs a bit loose and the weight of it truly suits you. What do you think?”

      Salem studied himself in the oval shaped mirror. The portrait he presented was one of stark contrasts. He was handsome, yet with several days of stubble and the slight puffiness that seemed to prevail under his hazel eyes he appeared tired and slightly older than his twenty-two years. The awkwardness he felt showed as a sort of beguiling innocence. The young man looking back at him with a small hesitant smile seemed guiltless, yet burdened by some secret pain. He blinked and startled slightly when Tyson appeared in the mirror looking over his shoulder.

       “It’s nice Ellie.” He said quietly his voice warm and sincere. “It’s you and you should buy it.”

       “Expensive, Tyse. I don’t deserve a fine…”

       “You deserve it Ellie, and you have the money. It’s you man; one hundred percent you. I don’t know…it just fits. Buy it.”

       Elliot looked over at the jeweler as if the man could make the choice for him. It wasn’t as if he’d refuse Salem’s money.

      “Orlov, an old friend sort of, he said silver’s magical, Tyse and for some reason I always believed him. Hell he wore one and he’d been shot some nine or ten times and he was still healthy as hell.”

       “Well then you damn sure need it Ellie. Go for it man; it’s sweet.”

      “If money is an issue we do have a credit card available. A short application and a ten minute wait and we can see if you’re approved. Also you seem to know your way around jewelry, so you must be aware that such a fine piece is after all an investment.”

       “Yea, do the application we can wait.” He muttered reaching up and undoing the chain.

       He handed it back and took the form from the clerk along with a pen. He finished it and turned the paper in then went to where Rios was choosing between three rings.

       “Which one Ellie? I can’t pick one.”

       “You’re asking me? Tyse it’s your wedding. They all cost over eleven grand Bro that’s steep.”

       “Yea, I have savings, well been saving. I’ll do half credit, half cash. You only do this one time Ellie; gotta go big man.”

       Elliot studied the three choices. He had no way to judge what Samantha would like he hadn’t even met her yet. Truth be told he actually resented her slightly for being a part of Rios’ life. Rios was all he had and deep down he was terribly insecure about losing the big man’s attentions to her. He loved Rios though and he’d die before ever doing anything to hurt him or the life he was planning.

       Salem sighed and tried to visualize the many pictures he’d seen of Samantha. She was a tall, big boned but perfectly balanced woman, beautiful to a fault. A small petite ring would be lost on her.

       “That one, the fourteen grand one; let me see that and a loupe.”

      They jeweler handed the ring and loupe to Elliot and he scrutinized the piece.

       “Do I want to know why you know how to do this, Salem?”

       “Nope. This one Tyse; it’s the one. Two carat brilliant cut, heart shaped diamond; very fine too, set in eighteen carat white gold. The band’s not all frilly though, delicate but strong like her in her pictures. Framed by nice marquees, four per side nested in between heart shaped Almandine garnets. It’s a beautiful design Tyse, the way the little hearts surround the marquees diamonds and how the center two hearts are intertwined and around the last marquees. It’s just really well done, Bro. This is the one. All good quality too. It will hold its value.”

      He handed the loupe and ring back to the jeweler and stepped back from the display case.

        “I should check on my chain. That one Tyse it’s, it’s what I’d do if I ever found anyone I’d want to keep forever. It’s perfect.”

       He turned away and crossed to where his jeweler was waiting for him. He sniffled and hoped the tears stinging his eyes were not overly apparent. The jeweler though noticed his discomfort and discretely slipped him a tissue.

      “These times, these moments can be surprisingly emotional for folks. Especially when they are close friends. I wouldn’t worry though he’s very devoted to you and his getting married won’t ever change that.”

      Salem flinched at the kind and too accurate platitude and eked out a smile. It wasn’t so much his insecurity about losing Tyson that brought on the moment of weakness but his own heart break at not having been able to give something so beautiful to his wife. All he’d given her was a few years of loneliness and an early death. He forced the secret pain and guilt back down and shrugged.

       “Thanks. I know, it’s just, well change can be a struggle.”

      “Very true. Well you are approved, sir. Unless you’ve changed your mind the chain is yours. I just need your signature in a few spots and you’ll receive your card in the mail in four two six weeks.”

       “Great that’s cool. Just point and I’ll get out of your hair.”

      He signed the forms and took his package then after a final glance at Rios filling out his own stack of papers he moved out into the mall and took a seat on a bench just outside the jewelry store reminding himself to watch for the CP.

      Rios finally finished his transaction and joined Salem. He noted that the younger man seemed tired. Over the course of their young relationship Tyson had learned that while Elliot was a bundle of energy he had the potential to suddenly crash. The entire team knew this and since a sudden crash in energy or mood could undermine a mission the group had spent a fair amount of time discussing how to manage their new team mate’s quirk. Rios knew getting Salem refocused and moving was paramount to revitalizing him.

      “Good you got it! Put it on. I want to see it again.”

       “Nah, not yet I’ll do it later.” He mumbled confirming Rios’ assessment of his mood. “We about done here. I’m shopped out.”

       “One more stop. I need a gift for Samantha for when she gets here Fourth of July. Come on.”

       They headed off and when Tyson reached his intended location Salem stopped short.

       “Victoria’s Secrets! You are not dragging me in there! I do not need to see whatever it is kinda little thing you’ll be stripping off a her. No way; you’re on your own for this one, I’m gone; I’m heading into Radio Shack. I suddenly feel like I need a new Walkman or something.”

      Before Rios could respond Salem dashed off across the mall dodging shoppers and into the neighboring store.

      They met back up a half an hour later Salem gleefully reporting that he’d been given his fifth credit card of the day. Rios sighed and consoled himself to feeding the young man for the foreseeable future while he paid down his new debts. Packages in hand they made their way back to the truck relieved to have avoided the CP all day.

       Later that evening back at the hotel, Salem came out of the shower and dressed in the new thirty-two sized black jeans and a black long sleeve tee shirt with a brilliant green and red dragon emblazoned on the back and red, yellow and orange flames trailing along the sleeves. Out of all the clothes he’d purchased the shirt had been the most costly, but he loved his dragons and flames and had to have it. Tyson, sitting on his bed looking at the ring nodded in approval of the outfit and Elliot basked in the older man’s contentment. 

      He sat down beside Tyson and looked down at the newly purchased bauble perched in its black velvet case.

       “Cost more than my truck.”

       “Yea.”

      “Think I fucked up? You do, don’t you? The truth Salem.”

      “No. If I could, I’d do the same. You love her, she’s gonna be your life your everything, it’s just money. You’ll make some more. Fuck Tyse bet we could even get on with my old bear and his guys at DBA once we’re free of the Army. They make good money. Six figures.”

       “With Tyannikov? I don’t know; six figures and a lot of killing Elliot. I don’t know. Where’s your chain? How come you haven’t put it on?”

       Salem stood back up and crossed the small room to his bags. Rios noted that he was limping slightly. He’d need to keep a check on whatever was bothering Salem’s leg. Elliot returned and sat back down.

        “Leg’s hurting?”

        “Just a little. Walking on hard stuff like that tile at the mall fucks with it some. Tyse I’m happy you’re gonna get married; you know that right?”

        “Yea, man; of course.”

       “Just wanna be clear about where we stand, who has my six an all.”

       “I do Ellie, I do. I always will.”

       Salem sighed deeply, snapped the lid of his chain’s case open and fingered the shiny links.

       “What’s that they say? A chain’s only as strong as its weakest link? I hate that saying. Chains don’t break, they bind. Here Tyse you do it; put it on for me will ya? It’s hard to reach.”

       Tyson knew Elliot well enough to understand that what he was asking meant more to him than just getting help to fasten his new necklace. He was imbuing the new chain with what he imagined as more magical powers. If Tyson fastened it then it would bind them. On the one hand the tender request flattered the big Ranger but on the other it frightened him. Salem, since arriving, had time and again created scenarios that he perceived as soul binding between them. Rios hadn’t helped by mixing their blood on their blades after he’d fought with Salem over Tyannikov. Now this request was yet another, although subtle, instance of that and combined with Tyson’s purchase of Samantha’s ring…well that, Rios knew, made the situation a very potent mix of emotional chemistry between them. It seemed as if Salem wanted Rios to claim him before he claimed Samantha. Despite his reticence Tyson knew refusing was out of the question.

       “Sure Ellie, I’d be honored.”

       He took the chain and brushed Elliot’s damp hair aside. Then he reached around him and looped the silver chain under his chin and back around. He clasped it and tugged gently to make certain it was secure then smoothed his hand down the back of Elliot’s head and squeezed his shoulders.

       “There all set. Let’s have a look. You look great. Now Giddy and the guys are waiting so get your socks on and new sneakers on and let’s go get drunk. I just dropped fourteen plus grand on a ring and suddenly I’m feeling a bit queasy about it. And Ellie this is between us, no one else, got me. Swear it, I’m trusting you man. I don’t want them to know yet.”

       Salem grinned proud to be the only one Tyson had told and jumped up from the bed suddenly happy and alive again.

       “Roger that boss! Gimme five mikes and I’ll be on your six.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**It Ain't Tea and Crumpets Kermit**

_Fourth of July_

_Gabe Benedict's House_

_ 1993 _

Chapter Three

 

 

Salem followed Dorrie through the beautifully furnished house listening to her talk about the activities planned for the day. It was a party and he was not big on parties, especially with strangers.

“Ok here we are. Just pick a bunk. I think Giddy and Heck are staying across the hall; well they usually do anyway. Dustin’s in with them and the new fellow, what’s his name? M.I.T you guys call him, is that right?”

“Yea, well yes ma’am, Secour is M.I.T., he’s a college type all smart on paper and what not but still ok.”

“Right well he’s in here with you. Tyson is…”

“Guess he’s bunking with his girlfriend.”

“Yes Samantha’s due in around three-ish. You’ll finally get to meet her won’t that be a treat.”

“Yea some treat.”

“Well honestly Elliot she’s a bitch. I won’t mince words. What Rios sees in her defies reason but they do say love is blind after all.”

Salem tossed his duffle bag onto the top bunk across from the door and sighed, he just wanted the day to be over so he could get back to drinking himself into a stupor.

“Love? Is there even such a feeling? Seems like a righteous pain in the ass if you ask me. Excuse my language.”

Dorrie sighed and smiled at him. He was depressed. She didn’t need a doctorate in Psychiatry to see that. The man was clearly struggling to keep a lid on some very strong emotions and she regretted promising Gabe that she’d not mention her area of expertise. Before she could respond Salem spoke again.

“Is it true you’re a shrink? D-Man, he said you are. Told me to steer clear of you or you’d figure me all out.”

“Elliot, listen to me closely. Yes, I am a Psychiatrist. I work for the CIA as a profiler. No I am not going to pick apart your mental state and report back to Gabe. Conversely I am here for you if you need a friendly ear and anything we discuss would be confidential.”

“Thanks but I’m good. Thanks.”

The pair exited the room and joined the rest of the group in the back yard.

Once outside Elliot made a bee line for Rios. He was standing with several men and Gabe talking. If nothing else he could use the bigger man for cover and just hide all day. Before he made it Secour corralled him, wrapped his arm around his shoulders and handed him a beer.

“It’s always hard fitting in with guys who all know each other. You’d think that after switching units and roommates in college it’d get easier but it never does.”

“Yea seems like everybody knows somebody except us.”

“Yea, well slam enough of these and everyone will be a friend.”

“Suppose so.” Salem replied tapping his bottle of Budweiser against Secour’s.

“Hey M.I.T, get your ass over here and help me hook up this stereo.”

“Well Fifty, duty calls catch you after a while. On my way master Heckler Sir.”

Left alone again Salem drifted around on the fringe of the gathering; slowly making his way to Rios and hoping the two strangers would drift away before he reached them. He watched the guests talk and mingle while debating just slipping away and going back to the hotel. Rios would kill him though if he did that, so he finally sucked up his fear and joined the group.

“Yo Elliot, about time man. This is Freddy Yodell, you might of heard of him, he’s a bit of a famous hand in shooter’s circles; and this ugly fuck is Wayne Norris of absolutely no acclaim. So we call him No Acclaim Wayne. We all served together under Marcus Ferrell down in Bolivia. Guys this is Elliot Salem, my partner, my shooter; he’s a good hand at just about everything except keeping his mouth shut.”

The trio exchanged handshakes and Salem entered into the conversation. He tried to hide the fact that Freddy Yodell was one of his idols in the shooting world. It wouldn’t due to seem like a sniper groupie in front of Top. Before he could quiet the flutter of butterflies in his stomach Yodell spoke directly to him.

“Elliot, Gabe here says you pack a Barrett fifty. How’s that work out for you. I mean hell you’re not a big guy and that damned thing weighs thirty pounds without ammo.”

“Nope, only five foot nine and three quarters, right Top?” Salem quipped drawing a broad grin from Gabe. “And my fifty’s twenty-nine point nine pounds, so yea it’s a log but I just work out that much harder. Also Tyse and me spilt the ammo. I mean seriously, bro, Sgt. Yodell, if I need to pack any more than say ten rounds for a normal op I shouldn’t be trying to fire it, right? One shot one kill. If we think we’ll need any extra we just drop weight somewhere else and Rios totes it. Fuck he’s big enough to carry me in his ruck; what’s a few extra fifty cal rounds right?”

“Salem I am impressed.” Rios cut in. “I’m glad to see you so amicable about me carrying your skinny ass in my ruck sack. Once upon a time that didn’t go over so well.”

“Yea well don’t let it go to your bald head you big prick; I ain’t so small now.”

“You’re small, Kermit.”

“Yes he is Tyson but that Barrett evens the game up. Christ Freddy this kid’s a magician with the damned thing. I swear I’ve never seen anyone, at such a young age, with an eye and touch on a trigger like Salem has. He’s a natural and it translates well with the Barrett. I have to admit that when I first saw it and him I was skeptical but he made a believer outta me quick and he's saved our sorry asses time and again with it."

Salem stared at Gabe dumbfounded. He was complimenting him. He was bragging about his ability to seasoned Rangers with nearly as many years’ experience as Salem was old. He was bragging to _Freddy Yodell,_ a sniper of near infamous renown. Salem never expected to shake the Ranger’s hand let alone have his First Sergeant compliment his shooting to the man. He knew that Rios was just teasing him and not being belittling but still the big man’s jibing, in the midst of such company, irked him a bit. Conversely to hear Top express his admiration and confidence in his skills caught Salem by surprise and filled him with pride.

The conversation continued between Top and Yodell but it was lost to the young man. Instead Salem stood stock still, silently studying the big sniper as he talked. Yodell was in his late forties but still in top notch shape. He sported several days’ worth of graying stubble and a shaggy moustache framed his weathered lips. Gray also peppered his thick, once dark brown hair and blond strands, bleached from spending hours in the sun, tipped the ends where it nearly touched his shoulders. He carried an old, deep three inch long scar along the underside of his chin that gave, at first glance, the appearance of a double chin. His brown eyes were quick and bright, and he stood very straight and tall, his broad shoulders pulled back as if stuck in a permanent state of attention. Salem noted that he balanced his weight slightly forward on the balls of his feet, meaning that the big man could uncoil and snap into blinding action at a seconds notice.  

Yodell wore jungle patterned BDU’s cut off into near knee length shorts and a loose fitting Atlanta Falcons tee shirt. His thick, hard calves stuck out above battered, untied tan boots and red socks. Salem smiled at the soldier’s hair and attire. It bespoke of a man whom, despite living within the military’s rigid bevy of rules, was not afraid to do as he pleased. Shorts and boots with red socks were not exactly common attire and the long hair, Salem had the feeling that Yodell may have just returned from a mission. His eyes, while bright, still bore the look of recent exhaustion and stress; it was a look that Salem was well familiar with. The only tattoo Salem could see was his blood type, AB negative, inked in black, one inch tall letters on the inside of his left forearm.

“Take a picture Kermit, it will last longer.”

“Fuck you Tyse.” He snapped back.

Then smiling abashedly, stopped studying Yodell and refocused his attention on the conversation.

“Like I was saying, I fired one out at the range, you remember Randall Griffin, Gabe; well he has one and I could not-hit-shit. I mean it just smacked me around like a silly little bitch and I just couldn’t get comfortable with it. I’d like to see you shoot, Salem; you know if you can make time. Set me straight with the big damned thing. Gabe said you got that Russian merc squared away with it, hitting 750 in short time, I should be a piece of cake to train.”

Salem was stunned into silence. Yodell wanted to shoot with him, wanted him to square _him_ away? He needed to pinch himself to make certain he wasn’t dreaming.

“Salem son, Freddy’s talking to you.”

“What Top? Yea, yes Sgt. Yodell and sorry I called you bro, just slipped out. Tyse can we do that? This is Freddy Yodell. Do you know who that is? He is. What he is?”

The group began laughing and Salem started to get flustered.

“What? Tyse really, _Freddy Yodell_. If you’d said he was gonna be here I’d a been the first one out of the truck. Yea I’ll shoot, just name the day and time and I’ll keep my mouth shut and listen and Tyse can you, will you drive me? I can’t rent a car; don’t have a license. I guess I could borrow one, a car that is. I’ll just recon the mall parking lot and…”

“Ok, ok Elliot, I’ll drive us and Salem _absolutely no_ _borrowing_ cars! How about Tuesday, Freddy? Sam’s flying out that morning at 0500 after that I’m a free man again.” Rios queried noting the look on Elliot’s face. It was his _‘oops it’s a little late for that warning’_ look. “Salem please tell me you had nothing to do with that Silver Celica the cops towed from the hotel parking lot Wednesday morning. Look at me, Salem!”

“No, what Celica and how dare you imply that I’ve done something so dastardly, Tyse! And it’s Sergeant Yodell to you!” Salem squealed “Not plain Freddy have some respect, some manners man, come on!”

“Dastardly’s your middle name, Salem.”

“It’s actually Nicholas, Tubby.”

“Tubby Salem? How many…”

“Lots, Corporal Rios.”

“Corporal?” Yodell asked eyeing Rios. “Last I heard you’d made Sergeant and were promotable, what gives?”

“What gives Freddie? What gives is that this little shit’s not only good at borrowing cars he’s good at stealing a man’s rank too. Right Salem?”

Salem merely shrugged and sipped his beer declining to answer the question. Yodell studied the pair and decided that it was territory better left to another time and continued with the earlier discussion.

“We’re home, we’re chilling out so let’s toss rank aside guys; which means Freddy’s fine, Elliot. Besides Tyse and I go way back but thanks for standing up for me. Yea Tuesday’s perfect actually. 1400, meet me at the long range and Elliot; I will be listening to you, ok son? I have a class to teach out there at 1600 and this will make for a good lesson. I’ll get you guys cleared.”

“Oh fuck. My Fifty, my Fifty’s back in Africa.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Yodell said chuckling lightly at Elliot’s dismay. “We actually have some now. We’ll have time to zero it and you’ll be fine. See you then. Guys I hear a beer calling me and a beautiful creature just slithered in the gate all alone, with my name written all over her rather abundant tits. I’ll catch you later.”

The trio watched the man walk away, grab two beers and head for the tall brunette. He wrapped his arm around her bare midriff and held out the bottle. Moments later they were sitting together at a table engrossed in conversation just as if they’d known one another for years.

Tyson looked at Salem who still stared, somewhat slack jawed, across the yard at the pair.

“Man I bet he gets any woman he wants. But why’d he want that, well her? That’s so gross.”

“He’s gone Kermit. You can pick your jaw up off a the ground now. And why’s that gross?”

“What?” Salem snapped back tearing his eyes from the couple. “Fuck you Rios. This, meeting Sgt. Yodell, is like bucket list thing. Fuck if only I could have meet Vasily Zaytsev, now that would have been a treat.”

“Who?”

“You should read more, Tubby; then you’d know this stuff. The Sixes, he invented the Sixes. He’d died in December ’91 though. I was barely a soldier way back then.”

“Way back? It’s only two years ago Elliot.”

“Hmph sure seems a lot longer ago. Go figure. Wow Freddie Yodell. Tuesday’s gonna take fucking forever, like a lifetime, to get here.”

“Yea, all a three days, Kermit. You let damn near three years slip by but three days is forever. Christ almighty you baffle me sometimes Elliot.”

“I’m excited. It’s like you getting to meet…you know like your hero, your favorite singer from when you were a kid. You know…like say Bing Crosby. Imagine if you got to meet Bing Crosby. Your jaw’d be on the ground too.”

“Bing Crosby! How the hell old do you think I am, Salem?”

“He was a crooner, Tyse. The ladies loved him too.”

“How old Salem?”

“Don’t know, Tyse…fifty, maybe fifty-eight.” Elliot replied waggling his left hand horizontally side to side. “Give or take.”

“You know what Salem…”

“That on the high side? You were moving a little slow on our last recon, figured it’s the Arthur-ite-is setting in.”

“Arthur? I’ll give you Arthritis you little fucker!” Rios hollered grabbing for Elliot who juked left and free of Rios’ grasp. “Come ’ere you slippery little fuck, hey!”

Once the pair had dashed off Wayne began laughing aloud.

“Jesus, Gabe, they always like that?”

“Yea, pretty much. They’re either trying to seriously kill one another or playing like just now. But seriously Wayne, Elliot is a diamond in the rough of the rarest kinds. On the one hand I couldn’t ask for a better soldier. On the other hand he’s not an easy keeper that boy. Every time we think we’ve nailed him down he turns in the light a bit and a new facet twinkles to life. Boy’s been through hell and back since he took his first breath, Wayne. He’s tough as nails and badger mean but tempered with the gift of comedic insight and that’s his saving grace. Without that he’d be lost.”

“Did he steal the Celica?”

Gabe burst out laughing.

“Did he steal the Celica, excuse me, borrow the Celica? Oh probably so. If a thing’s not bolted down then Salem can heist it. Boy’s fingers are stickier than super glue. I could tell you some tales Wayne, oh how I could tell you some tales.

The morning rolled into afternoon and around 1300 hours Gabe called the men together. They’d eaten barbecue and most all were getting at least somewhat drunk so it was time to move the party along.

“Let’s go everyone circle up. It’s time to pick teams for the Annual Benedict Dizzy Baseball game.”

“Dizzy baseball?” Salem asked Rios worriedly.

“Yea Salem, just move out and get in line.”

The men circled up and Gabe held up his hand for quiet.

“Ok, this year’s captains are; Phil Heckler who won last year’s who can build the biggest bottle rocket contest and Erik Jimenez who won the arm wrestling competition. Step on up gentlemen and choose your players wisely.”

The men fell out and took up positions in front of the party goers. Salem took a step back and slightly to his right tucking himself in behind Rios. The bigger man saw what he was trying to pull and dragged him back out front.

“Get over here Salem. It’s only baseball you idiot. Tell me that in between car stealing, drug running, head bashing and fencing shit to strange Russian mobsters that you played Little League.”

“Nope.”

“Ok Heck and E.J. it’s rock, paper, scissors to see who picks first, best of three.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter Four

 

**It Ain't Tea and Crumpets Kermit**

_Fourth of July_

_Gabe Benedict's House_

_ 1993 _

Chapter Four

 

 

Samantha Fidelia Norris strode confidently through the gate and into Gabe Benedict’s backyard. This would be her fifth ‘Benedict’s Fourth of July Bash’ and this year shed’ been even more excited to attend because Tyson was there and they’d not seen one another in over eight months. Just inside the gate she paused. The guys were already playing Dizzy Baseball which the tall dark haired woman knew meant that they were all well into their cups. Samantha walked toward the group after grabbing two Heinekens from a cooler and smiled at the sight.

Five years ago, while Samantha, a Yale Business Law graduate, was working for the DEA as a research assistant in the Miami office, her father, a DEA field agent, introduced her to Colonial Marcus Ferrell. He and Ferrell had met during discussions about sending teams, trained under Ferrell at the School of the Americas, to Bolivia to assist the DEA in assisting Bolivian law enforcement agencies conducting covert jungle drug raids. Samantha’s task at the time had been to investigate the bank accounts of a drug lord named Guillermo Jiménez or, as he was known to his men, El Lagarto Negro, the Black Lizard. It was during one of her trips as a courier to Colonial Ferrell’s offices at Fort Benning Georgia that she met a tall, no huge really, she recalled, handsome Army Ranger named Sgt. Tyson Rios who was acting as a sort of aide de camp to Ferrell. The pair hit it off and from that day on whenever Tyson was stateside they spent their time together. Samantha, although technically _attached_ to Rios, had never become exactly exclusively committed to the big soldier. He didn’t care for the arrangement but they loved one another and he seemed to turn a blind eye. She guessed he felt he had no choice. After all he was away more than he was home. Conversely Tyson had remained exclusive and faithful to his beautiful girlfriend and if she allowed herself to, Samantha, on occasion, did suffer a tinge of guilt. She snapped back to the present when Dorrie tapped her shoulder.

“Welcome back stranger; how goes life in happy, sunny South Beach?” Samantha wasn’t her favorite person but Dorrie would not allow her feelings to muddle up a good party.

“Dorrie, hi.” Samantha replied smiling. She knew the woman held her in contempt for _trolling the waters_ as she’d so eloquently and tactfully put it several years ago but she’d promised Rios to be polite and so she was. “Miami’s great. I’ll never leave, not for all the money in the world. It’s just always so alive, so vibrant. How about you guys, doing well? Ty sounded good on the phone last night.”

“Yea, we’re good, the guys seem good. They had a really tough one just before heading home but they all seem ok. Hey, you get to meet Elliot.”

Samantha chuckled and sipped her beer. “I can’t wait. It’s all I can do to try and get my big lunk headed boyfriend to talk about something _besides_ Corporal Elliot Salem. He seems quite taken by the man.”

“They are, as you put it, quite taken with each other. Elliot’s a bit of an odd creature as you will soon discover.”

“So it seems. Who’s winning?”

“I think they’re all too drunk to count, let’s walk over.”

The women moved closer to the hastily laid out baseball diamond and watched the antics.

Samantha would, despite her lifelong disdain for Elliot Nicholas Salem, never forget her first sight of him. It was of his, tight, snug blue Levi’s clad ass as he bent over, placed his forehead on the end of an upright green, aluminum baseball bat and began to run as fast as possible counterclockwise around it in a circle with what she could only define as great and childlike enthusiasm. It was, she’d readily admit to anyone who asked, a very nice ass.

Elliot was enthusiastic. Like everything he endeavored to do he treated the game as yet another mission he needed to accomplish successfully. So once the team leaders finished making their choices, a process that terrified him, he relaxed and set his mind to trying to figure out how best to not get too dizzy to hit the ball and run straight. He’d complained to Rios that he hated lining up like a dog in a pound waiting for someone to pick him for anything because as a child no one had ever picked him. The kids passed him over for teams in school because he didn’t have the good sneakers or the right clothes or didn’t care enough to spell well enough to be on the spelling team. School aside and more pointedly, prospective families failed to choose him to go off from the youth home or orphanage for weekends or for fostering. It hurt, he moaned to Rios, when no one wanted you and as the men waited for the captains to sort them out Salem felt the old wash of anxiety flood through his gut. He chugged away at the beer in his hand, looked longingly at the nearby cooler then bolted for it. What if nobody picked him? What if he was last to go? He returned with three beers and Rios having tried to assuage his concern reminded him to relax. Before he could argue his point Heckler called out his name. Salem was his second choice, picked before Rios even, and reveling in what he saw as a great honor cast his doubts aside and was all in. He’d be the best damned Dizzy Baseball player the men had ever seen. He’d make certain not to let Heckler down.

As Samantha and Dorrie watched, Gabe blew the whistle signaling that Salem could stop spinning and try to hit. Yodell pitched the tennis ball and Salem connected, his first hit of the game, sending the green ball far out over the heads of the men playing in the outfield. He cheered, tossed the bat down and dizzily tried to run for first base smiling from ear to ear and tripping over his own feet. Samantha thought that it was the finest, cutest most genuine smile she’d ever seen. The women laughed as he stumbled and fell, then stood, made it to first then foolishly tried for second. Rios seeing that the smaller man would not get there in time charged Salem, hoisted his team mate effortlessly over his right shoulder and ran for second. One of the guys finally threw the ball for home. No Acclaim Wayne caught it and ran after Rios. The group collapsed into a heap with the rest of the men piling on top at home plate and rolling around like a bunch of unruly puppies with a bone. Gabe and a few others finally untangled the mess and Salem jumped up laughing and smiling wider than any of the team had ever seen him.

Rios spun round once he’d dragged Salem up and saw Samantha for the first time. He pressed through the men and straight for her. They embraced and kissed as the group settled in around them. Salem a bit abashed by Tyson’s display of affection slid back in an effort to hide behind Giddy. The bigger man picked up and slapped Elliot’s hat onto his head bill to the front only to have Heckler snatch it off and put it back on backwards. Then Heckler put his hand in the middle of Salem’s shoulder blades and shoved him roughly forward toward Rios and Samantha.

“Sam, as always a pleasure and I’d like you to meet the beautifully handsome, Mrs. Elliot Rios. Looks like your ship done took sail, baby cakes. The big guy’s taken!”

Elliot turned and smacked Heck’s arm aside only to have Heck and Giddy shove him closer to the reunited couple.

On the sideline Dorrie noted that while Samantha laughed and smiled at Heckler’s introduction there was in fact no humor in her dark eyes. Rios too seemed a bit thrown by the remark. Salem’s eyes showed that he was embarrassed that Heck had _married_ him to Tyson and fearful that the comment had destroyed any chance he’d had of being on good terms with the big man’s girlfriend. Dorrie knew enough about the young soldier’s history to realize that he was hyper-vigilant when it came to how people perceived him. He’d see right through Sam’s smile. The mood had slipped from silly joy to tense and Dorrie knew that someone needed to bring order to the situation. She locked eyes with Gabe but before either could react Salem surprised them by stepping boldly up to Samantha and extending his hand.

“Samantha, nice to finally meet you and no worries ma’am; he’s, Tyson’s become a bit of a lard ass as of late and that, becoming a lard ass, is in gross violation of our pre-nup. Heck’s out of the loop Ma’am. I divorced Tyse’s fat ass a month ago Ma’am. He’s all, and I mean _all_ ,” he leaned in and whispered into her ear, “all 700 sorry pounds of him all,” He pulled away again,“if you get my drift, yours.”

Then he bowed graciously while removing his hat and stepped back three paces.

“God damn you, Kermit! 700…”

Elliot shrugged and tried to look as innocent as he could. “Maybe 785, Ma’am, but hey who’s counting.”

Rios reached for Elliot and the group broke up into laughter as the smaller man slipped once again from Tyson’s grasp.

 


	5. Chapter Five

**It Ain't Tea and Crumpets Kermit**

_Fourth of July_

_Gabe Benedict's House_

_ 1993 _

Chapter Five

 

 

      The day wound down, and the group adjourned, sitting in various lawn chairs or on blankets, along the bank of the lake behind Gabe’s home to watch the fireworks show. Salem, for his part, felt a bit left out. Rios had Samantha, Gabe Dorrie, and the rest of the guys had magically found themselves women to spend the evening with. So, he sat a bit to one side listening to the conversation wafting back and forth. This was, he supposed, what he’d have to look forward to when he left the Army. Well, not ‘this’ exactly, because it had obviously taken Gabe and Dorrie some time to acquire their beautiful home and property. He knew that such luxury did not come cheap.

      He took a long swig of his beer and sighed. Hell, he didn’t need all this stuff, he thought. All he needed was a cot and a roof over his head. That’s more than he’d ever had. Maybe, he’d just stay in. It seemed to work, for most of the team and for Tyse, although, as of late the big man had been knocking around the idea of getting out, and settling down with Samantha. Salem’s gut hitched. Rios had purchased the ring, so that probably meant that he’d made his decision.

      The sound of Giddy laughing caught his ear, and he looked over at him. He had the strange woman in an embrace, and they were kissing. Salem blanched a bit. Maybe, he was a prude, or naïve, or both, but he didn’t really understand the allure of just taking up with someone for a night’s worth of senseless fucking. He shuddered as goose bumps teased down his spine. Even if that was something he wanted or needed he had no clue where to begin, or how to go about it. For a brief second he regretted not asking the girl in Penney’s out. He could have, and maybe she’d have agreed to come along with him today. Or, he thought a bit dejectedly, she’d have probably just laughed in his face, and told him to get lost.

      Fireworks, wasn’t that was all this sex was supposed to be about? He guffawed at the silly idea. Fireworks, all they’d ever meant to him was a trip to the nearest big show with a good supply of drugs. What better way, his old man had claimed, was there to off load a hefty shipment of good LSD, and Ecstasy than to go to a fireworks display. So, that’s what he’d done from age six. By age four, he could count money, and scope out prospective buyers both skills ground and pounded into him by his father, and while he couldn’t sell the drugs at that age, by the time he was six, he could. So, his father would drop him off, and he’d walk around, or peddle his bike through the celebratory crowd, pick out buyers, and sell the stuff all day and night long. That’s what the fourth of July meant to him.

      As he tipped up his beer to drink he felt a hand on his left shoulder. He looked up and left, found no one, and then startled a bit when Heckler plopped down on his right.                                                            

      “Fifty!”

      “Heck.”

      “What’r you doin, sitting over here all alone? Let me find you a lady friend, Fifty. There everywhere.” He spluttered throwing his left arm around Salem’s shoulders.

      “Thanks Heck, I’m good. I want a girl, I’ll find my own.”

      “You’ll find your own? Right, Fifty, right, and when exactly’s the last time you got laid?”

      Salem shrugged free of the bigger man’s grasp, and pushed him away slightly. He hated when Heckler started these conversations. They never ended well. He hated when people teased him, and that’s what Heckler was best at. He always seemed to know just how to tease him, and then after getting under his skin, poking at a weak spot, finally setting him off. Salem didn’t want to lose his temper and embarrass Gabe or Rios, so he wished that Heckler would just go and find his lady friend, and leave him alone to watch the fireworks.

      “I get laid.”

      Heckler started laughing, and Salem frowned. It was an outright lie, and for some reason Heckler saw through it. I must be slipping, Salem thought, or maybe just drunk.

      “You get laid about as much as you tell the fucking truth sonny. Look at her. She’s a sweet heart. Nice caramel hair and legs that don’t stop, and look at those tits…fuck, I hooked up with the wrong lady, Fifty. Fuck you, I should hit that shit.”

      “Go ahead, she’s right there. Fuck, Heck take the blonde from earlier with you like a sandwich.”

      Heckler spat out a mouthful of his beer, and leaning back looked hard at the younger man. Hearing the suggestion from Salem was so out of place it was incredulous.

      “A sandwich? Seriously, a ménage a trois you mean, and what the fuck would you know about that kinda shit?”

      “I know things.”

      The first of the fireworks were going off, and Salem tried to concentrate on the groups oohing and ahing.

      “Sure you do,” Heckler pressed as a huge violet Chrysanthemum burst above the lake, “Like killing people from two miles away, blowing shit up, lying your ass off, stealing, ah, let’s see what are some of your other virtues…fighting like a god damned Wolverine, or whatever the fuck…”

      “Badger, Badger Heckler, I fight like a Badger, and I can do stuff that’s not all…”

      “Right, Badger, and no, your forte is mayhem. So, about the ladies, offering to let them touch your Barrett’s not gonna get you in a Bologna and Brunette sandwich. No, scrap the Bologna. Fuck, that’s not a good visual, too manly, like the rolls of the stuff, so let’s say a…”

      “Let’s say you shut the fuck up, and just watch the show. Look at that one it’s the size of Texas and still growing.”

      “Something’s growing all right,” Heckler sneered bumping his shoulder into Salem’s, “Would you look at that shit? Fireworks and a wet tee shirt show. Good thing most of the wives don’t come to this. Well nobody’s married really. Most of the guys play it pretty loose. Get what they can, with who they can, whenever they can before shipping back out. Like you, you silly fucker. You don’t get some soon we’ll be back in country, and you’ll be pumping your own pecker for another six months. You right handed or left? Shampoo or…”

      “Shut the fuck up, Heckler!”

      “I fucking bet you’re still a god damned virgin! That’s it you’re fucking scared! You…”

      “Enough! I don’t pump anything with anything, okay. I don’t get all of you just fucking like bunnies, and I thought it was supposed to be about more than just the fireworks when it’s over. I thought it was supposed to mean something! And no, yes, I have fucked before.”

      Heckler stared at him mouth agape. The look on Salem’s face told him that he was serious. That he really believed that all the senseless, emotionless fucking they all took part in was a travesty of sorts. This was not what he’d expected. Rather than back down, he pressed his point.

      “Getting off in the shower…”

      Then, as a whistling green and blue star exploded, Heckler recalled, in a flash, Salem’s story about his incarceration, and his father’s abuse. He stopped talking, and read only pain in the smaller man’s eyes. Maybe all Salem had ever known was the sick side of the act, maybe because of that he longed for an experience more grounded in actually caring.

      “Hey, you could be right. It should mean something, and I guess sometimes it does. But, for us, guys like us that don’t know if today’s our last day breathing, I guess we just get what we can. Fuck, if you don’t the next thing you know, it could be you jumpin’ some bitches shit just to scratch the itch. See you later.”

      As he passed behind Salem he squeezed the man’s shoulder by way of an apology. Heckler felt horrible. Typically, his teasing left him with no guilt regardless of the outcome but the pain and loneliness he’d read in Salem’s eyes had hurt. It was no wonder that the boy steered clear of the issue. Heckler could only imagine what Salem’s expectations actually having sex were. Pushing the encounter aside, he grabbed two beers from the cooler, and minutes later he was escorting his lady for the evening to a secluded spot to fuck her senseless until the end of the fireworks display.

      As the final barrage of pyrotechnics fluttered down to earth, Gabe rallied his guests up, and herded them back to the house. Salem, still alone, followed along feeling a bit low. No matter how hard he tried his eyes wandered to Rios and Samantha. They certainly seemed to be in love. He worried though about the rumors he’d heard about her being less than faithful. That idea that she would betray his trust angered him. He tried to see if her finger bore the beautiful ring yet, but Tyson had her left hand clasped in his huge right hand. He sighed. It was futile to hope that Rios would forgo marrying her. It was futile to think that once he left the Army any of this would be available to him. People come and people go. All he could do was hope they didn’t cast him away before he’d had a chance to leave them on his own terms.

      “Okay guys line it up for your tattoos!”

      Gabe’s order snapped him out of his funk a bit. Tattoos, how were they going to get tattoos at Gabe’s house? He walked a bit quicker, and stopped just off of the wide terrace. Four stations were now set up for tattooing, and those who wanted one were getting into loosely formed queues to wait their turn. This, Salem thought, was exactly what he needed to cheer him up.

      While walking in town he’d passed several Tattoo Parlors, and debated going in. He knew exactly what he wanted. The idea had come to him, in a vivid color mad dream, the night before he’d killed the man hunting him in the mountains around Sarajevo. He was freezing, and in horrible pain. A part of him only wanted to die so it would all go away. At some point, he finally fell asleep, the trailing tendrils of the dream dragging him awake just in time to save himself from the huge Russian sniper. The dream had linked him back to one of the best parts of his childhood, and he’d always felt that it had been some strange magical moment; where one of the few people, that had ever cared for him, had somehow seen his danger, and alerted him.

     After grabbing a beer he walked along the row of stations looking at the artists’ own tattoos. He needed color, rich vibrant color, and he knew from listening to men talk about their tattoos that good deep color was hard to come by. Finally, he saw what he was looking for. The third artist in the group had a tiger stretched along his left forearm. The orange and yellows making up the prowling animals fur were extraordinary, and the emerald green of the animal’s eyes actually seemed to twinkle. Without hesitation, he got into that line.

      “Hey.”

      He looked up at Rios and frowned. The big man had a tattoo, but Salem had always felt that he regretted getting it. ‘Vaya co Dios’ in black ink just below where his right tee shirt sleeve fell, and his blood type on his left. It was, Salem always figured, something Rios he’d done after too many beers, or on a dare.

      “Tyse.”

      “You planning on getting inked?”

      “Yup. Can I?”

      Rio chuckled, and Salem felt small.

      “What, Tyse, what?”

      “You’re asking my permission to do something, Elliot? That’s a fucking first.”

      “Well no, yea, I just well, I just didn’t think you were all that into it you know, so and we’re a team and…”

      “Get all the ink you want, Salem. I got no issues with it. What are you gonna get?”

      Salem frowned again, and tried to peer around the big man. He wondered why Tyson was over here talking to him without Samantha. Rios read his intent and laughed again.

      Powder room, doing whatever the fuck the ladies do in there. I’m free for the foreseeable future.

      “Oh, okay if you say so. I don’t need any more enemies, Tyse.”

      “So, what do you have planned?”

      “Yes,” a slender woman interrupted them, “I’m Galicia, and if you can give me some idea, then we can get it started for Xavier the artist. Just sketch it out as best you can, or go on up to that table there, and have a look in the books. You won’t lose your spot. Here’s a number.”

      Salem took the clipboard, and with a final look up into Tyson’s eyes, he began to sketch his idea. Tyson watched enrapt. Salem was a fair hand with a pencil, and he’d not known that. Slowly the design took shape. It began at his wrist with two sets of flames flowing up to his elbow and around hi bi-cep, Then, within the flames, Rios saw the start of a huge dragon. The dragon wound its way through the flames all the way to Salem’s shoulder. Galicia smiled at the drawing.

      “Nice, I like it. It is big though, so it will take some time. What about colors?

      “Red and yellow flames, deep color though, it has to be bright, and oranges too, Green real green and maybe a yellow, gold like yellow. for the belly, and scales, everything.”

      “Okay, let me get on this, and let me talk to Xavier. You might need to scoot a bit back in line, so he can take the time on this he needs. He’s gonna be totally stoked to something out of the books, and something so beautiful. Back in a flash.”

      “Yo, Tyse, how much you figure it’ll cost?”

      “Free, Kermit. Top foots the bill. He works a deal with Xavier and his team every year. I didn’t know you could draw more than a map for strategy shit, Salem.”

      “Yea, not much though. Just something that kept me occupied when shit was bad. How long you figure?”

      “You’re looking at several hours Ellie, and it can be a tough thing to sit through.”

      “Sat through worse.”

      “Hey, while he’s got you, you should have him do your blood type somewhere too. It comes in handy.”

      “No, you know what it is.”

      “I might not be there, Elliot.”

      Salem looked hard into Rios’ dark eyes. His heart was suddenly racing, and he felt nauseous. Tyse not be there, that was an inconceivable possibility. He took a long swig of his beer, and shook the surge of anxiety off.

      “You’re gonna give her the ring then, hunh.”

      The comment took Rios by surprise. It hadn’t even entered his mind that Salem might consider him not being there, not being there because he’d married Samantha, and left the Army.

      “No. What? No. I don’t know. Not anytime soon. I could get killed or we could be separated, or something, that’s all. It’s just a good idea.”

      Then, before Salem could respond, Galicia was back.

      “You, my friend are in for a real treat. Come with me.”

      Galicia led them to the front of the line, while two other helpers separated the six men in front of him, and put them in other queues. She motioned for him to sit down in the chair near Xavier, and after kissing him on his left cheek disappeared. Rios stood beside him, and waited for the artist to turn from preparing his tools and inks.

      “Hey Elliot, I’m Xavier. Served with Bene for three years until I took a bullet in my left knee cap, and they threw me out. Nice to meet the little ass bitch keeping the old fucker safe. Thanks for that. Now, about this dragon of yours, it’s a beauty. So, that being said, Elliot; do you mind if I just do my thing? I just want to free hand it, and give you the best fucking dragon in the Ranger’s. How’s that sound?”

      Salem looked up at Rios who was smiling broadly. “Yea thanks, and sure you’re the artist, sure, and thanks.”

      “Hey Xav, do his blood type too, squeeze it in there somewhere or…”

      “No, Rios! No, I do not want it. I do not want it anywhere, but my fucking dog tags. Please don’t Xavier, I mean it.”

      “Why not Salem? For fuck’s sake we all have it!”

      “Why, why, Tyse, because _they_ all don’t fucking have _you_! _I_ do, I’ll always have you, and you know what it is! So, I do not need it tattooed on my fucking forehead’s why!”

      The artist looked up at Tyson, and shrugged.

      “It’s his body man, so it’s his call. You can bring him a beer though, right?”

      “Right, back in a few.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salem gets a bit of a rude awakening concerning the teams Rios' behavior.

 

_Fourth of July_

_Gabe Benedict's House_

_ 1993 _

Chapter Six

_ WARNING: _

_This chapter contains M/F sexual content of voyeuristic nature. Please heed the warning. If this is an issue please message me, and I will edit up a purely Gen version. This piece began Gen, but now it has taken a bit of a twist. I initially thought that I could edit it quite simply, but that is not the case, and such an edit will take some work. Thanks for supporting it, and please, do let me know if anyone would like a purely Gen edit. Thanks_

 

      As the evening wore on, Salem focused upon the surreal sound of the buzzing tattoo gun. It was relaxing. It seemed to cut through the sounds of the party still going on around him and Xavier. The soothing buzz and the soft strains, of what Xavier had described as Gregorian Chants, playing from a small CD player under his work table were all Elliot seemed able to hear. The other artists, having worked through their queues over an hour ago, lounged in chairs not far off watching their boss work on the most complex project of the evening.

      Rios had come by several times to check up on Elliot. Each with Samantha firmly attached to his left hip, her right arm looped round his waist, and her hand tucked into his right side back pocket. Seeing that, Salem bristled a bit. It was as though she was trying to get at the big, hard working Ranger’s wallet. Compounding his growing jealousy, on each visit she’d made certain to allow Elliot to witness her nuzzling the side of Rios’ neck and beneath his chin. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat displaced. Tyson’s hip was, in his mind and the minds of the team members, his. But now, he began to wonder and worry. Where was his place after all?

      Sipping his beer he looked across the gaily lit pool terrace and snorted quietly. They were at it again. This time though, Rios had the tall, caramel skinned woman pressed back against the wall of Gabe’s house just into a gray, but not quite fully darkened shadowy spot. His hands were behind her, kneading her firm ass, and he plied her pert lips with kisses. Samantha’s hands rested on his ass, and she made no effort to hide the motion of her hips grinding against his groin. Salem blanched at the display. Seeing Rios ensnared in such a public display of affection disturbed and embarrassed him. He could easily watch Tyson kill a man, but this; this was making his skin crawl. Xavier caught the direction of his gaze, and chuckled lightly, almost sardonically.

      “She’s a real piece a work that one. I just don’t get what he sees in her, why he tolerates her games. Bitch has slept with nearly every friend the man has and then some. Sick if you ask me. It’s not how he’d like to roll.”

      Salem looked away, and down at the area that the artist was coloring in a vibrant green that reminded Salem of pictures he’d seen somewhere of water in a volcano’s crater lake. The remark angered him slightly. It implied that Tyson was a cuckolded man; that he wasn’t up for the task of keeping his woman his and his alone. It hurt to think about her disloyalty, and his apparent weakness, but if that’s the way they rolled, was it really any of his business?

      “Seems to be what just about everyone thinks. That green is awesome.”

      “You gonna be around her much?”

      Elliot switched his focus back to the ongoing show in the shadow, and pondered the artist’s query. Samantha, now had her hands shoved into the front pockets of Rios’ blue Levis, and the arrangement left little to Salem’s imagination. It was quite clear what her long lithe fingers were working at, and he wondered, once again, if one of them bore the beautiful engagement yet. He flushed a bit, and tried not to squirm. The scene was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable.

      The pair remained locked in a deep probing kiss, while Tyson began rocking his hips forward and back obviously enjoying her ministrations. Salem figured he couldn’t blame the man. The couple hadn’t seen one another in eight months, and un-like Samantha, he didn’t play the field. He tended to his affairs alone, a fact far too clear, and a bit disconcerting to the younger man. There was no amount of caution or stealth that could hide such methods of release from one’s roommate sleeping only a foot and a half above your head.

      He coughed clearing his throat and turned his gaze back to Xavier, who was switching colors to begin work on the red areas.

      “I doubt it. They obviously have a lot of time to make up for. After today, I doubt I’ll see the fat fucker until she leaves. He just better be there to get me to the range on Tuesday. He promised. Why?”

      The artist laughed and looked him straight in the eyes. Xavier’s were an un-nerving shade of glacial blue, and the man’s jet black hair enhanced the crystalline effect. The un-expectedly stern, icy stare caught Salem off guard, and frowning, he recoiled slightly.

      “Maybe, but she _will_ make a play for you Elliot. That much, I am certain of.”

      “No way.”

      “Yes way, Bucky. I’m going to start here near your elbow. The bone is near the top so it might get a tad un-comfortable. If you need a second to settle, let me know.”

      “I’ll manage.” he snapped too tersely, “She can’t think I’d screw him like that, be that disloyal. We’re…”

      “Salem, kiddo, she absolutely hopes that you will screw him like that. Sam has fucked her way through all of us over the years. Me, Giddy, Heckler, Odie, Pedro even, Dustin; the lot of us. Not Gabe though, he doesn’t roll that way. Him and Dorrie are square, but the list goes on and on. Hell, she even made a play for Dorrie. That alright, not too painful.”

      “Can’t feel a thing.”

      Salem was feeling though. He was feeling far too much, a condition he was wholly unfamiliar and uncomfortable with, and he suddenly wished Xavier would jam the needle into his eye redirecting the pain he was suffering just thinking about the depth of such disloyalty amongst his team mates. The artist’s remark, stated in such a matter of fact, sterile manner terrified him. They were all brothers and partners. They kept one another alive through absolute trust, and yet it now seemed they had no compunction about fucking their leader’s girl. His heart began racing, and he closed his eyes tightly while going through his routine to get it back down to a resting rate. The well-practiced method worked, and he looked over once again at Rios and Samantha.

      Rios, now had his knee in between Samantha’s legs, and lifted slightly. Salem watched entranced, as she ground down against it, while working her hips forward and back, riding along his knee and thick thigh. He could see that, at some point, she’d paused long enough to un-zip his jeans affording her hands more room and direct contact with his cock, which she milked with vigor.

      After a moment, Rios loosed her lips, and began greedily suckling the right side of her thin, strong neck. Salem frowned when the big man’s left hand traveled round her right hip, in between their torsos, and deftly popped the buttons open on her tight fitting tan shorts. Then, with practiced skill slipped it into the skimpy pants. Salem nearly gasped along with the writhing woman when Rios’ thick fingers found their objective. Samantha leaned her head back until it hit the brick wall, and licked her lips, quite obviously enjoying the huge man’s ministrations.

      The appalled, young Ranger wanted to look away, wanted to watch, wanted to scream at the couple to take it inside. What they were doing was private and not meant for prying eyes least of all his. The entire scene enraged him on emotional levels he hadn’t actually realized that he possessed.

      “She come yet?”

      Elliot snapped around, at the sound of Xavier’s irreverent question, and stared at the man.

      “Careful, Bucky, don’t flinch around on me. I don’t want to mess this shit up. She screams like a banshee when she comes. He’ll play hell keeping her quiet out here. If he actually tries to go down on her someone needs to break it up. That’d be a bit crass, even for this fucked in the head crowd.”

      “Yea, it’s fucked up doing that, that, well, all a that, in front a folks.”

      Xavier laughed, and began switching to yet another color, a bright nearly golden hued yellow.

      “Not folks, Bucky, _you_. That show’s all for you. Galicia dear, go out to the truck, and find me that wicked new blue we picked up last week at the convention. Thanks, love.”

      Salem’s gut hitched. If so, had Rios been in on it? Why would he want him to suffer observing such debauchery? Conversely though, if he was, then what did that say about their relationship? ‘Get in line Kermit, and learn your place in my hierarchy.’

      “Probably, just too fucking drunk to care.” He muttered dejectedly.

      “It’s your denial, Bucky. I won’t begin to try to deny you it.”

      As Xavier went to work with the yellow, Salem looked back into the shadow. Rios had lifted Samantha up, and her tan shorts now lay looped round only her left ankle, atop her discarded high heel sandal. Even sans her heels the woman was nearly Tyson’s height, making her considerably taller than he was, and that truly irked Elliot. He took a long swig of his beer, and rejoined the flagrant display, fully aware of the unfolding scenario’s outcome, as her tiny, white lace panties slid down her long, fine leg joining the shorts. Then, with very little effort, Rios hoisted the woman up, and settled her deftly down onto his cock.

      Salem wasn’t un-informed about sex, but he was quickly learning that amongst the team he was grossly inexperienced and fairly prudish. He’d never consider doing what the couple was doing, or taking a strange woman into the tree line as Heckler had done, or far worse yet fucking his best friend’s girl. Despite that naïveté, he was aware of how a man’s body functioned. So, he had to admit, somewhat abashedly, that he found Tyson’s performance quite amazing. For a man, eight months detached from a woman like Samantha, he was exhibiting extraordinary self-control, as the entire raunchy exhibition had been playing out now for some time.

      With his huge hands beneath his girlfriend’s bare ass for support, the big Ranger drove into her over and over. Samantha’s head was banging lightly against the brick wall, but if it hurt she was oblivious to the discomfort. As Salem watched, Tyson’s rhythm began to become a bit erratic. He must be close, Elliot thought, and then, as if to prove his theory, Tyson’s slammed into her with several jerky thrusts, as he attacked her swollen lips to silence her screams. Finally, apparently satiated, the pair collapsed against the brick wall in a trembling tangle.

      “He kiss her to shut her up?”

      “Yea.”

      “Don’t sweat it Bucky, it’s just how they roll.”

      Salem sighed, suddenly incredibly weary of learning about how the guys _rolled_ , and then, watched warily, so as not to be caught giving in to Samantha’s taunt, as she quickly dressed and the ruffled pair slipped from the shadow through the pool terrace’s French doors and into Gabe’s house.

     


	7. Chapter Seven Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a Gen version of Chapter seven.

_Fourth of July_

_Gabe Benedict's House_

_ 1993 _

Chapter Seven GEN

_ WARNING:  _ _Moderate M/F/M sexual content with some implied activity. For the full version PM me or see my Ao3 account. Thanks_

 

      Two hours later the trio was completely alone on the pool terrace, as Xavier completed Salem’s dragon. Galicia had begun cleaning up the tattoo booth, and Salem watched, drowsily sipping on a beer. Finally Xavier leaned back cracked his thick neck and studied his work.

      “Done and I love it if I say so myself. I want some pictures if that’s ok by you.”

      “Sure thing. It’s incredible. I never thought I’d have something so sweet, thanks.”

      “I meant to ask, why a dragon?”

      Salem pondered the question. He hated discussing the hurtful events of his childhood and this, if he choose to give Xavier a response was one of the most painful. The man had given up hours working on the dragon though, and Elliot’s sense of reciprocation finally moved him to respond honestly.

      “Had someone once, when I was around six that really did try to care for me. When the state took, no, when the family after promising me a place, promising to adopt me forever, threw me away, he gave me a little ceramic dragon. He said to keep it close, that it would watch over me since he couldn’t, and I promised him to. He promised to find me, but…Anyway, I lost it. I figured that everything bad after that was my punishment for losing it, breaking my promise. Then, on that fucking mountain in Sarajevo, I fell asleep. I was wiped out, and I dreamed about this dragon. This dragon just like this one, and it told me to move my ass. I jumped up just in time to save my stupid self. Now, thanks to you I won’t ever lose him again. I’ll be safe forever now.”

      Xavier sighed and gently pressed the final length of tape down along the large white bandage that would protect the new tattoo. The younger man’s voice had been thick with deeply buried, painful emotion, actually breaking and he knew, in his heart that Elliot meant, and had believed in every word he’d uttered. He regretted being as cold and pragmatic as he’d been while discussing Samantha and Rios’ behavior.

      “There, all set, Elliot and you understand how to care for it right?”

      “Sure thanks, and good night I guess.”

      “In a hurry?”

      “What?” Salem spluttered, flinching slightly when Galicia grasped his shoulders from behind, surprised by the warmth of her breath whispering across the side of his neck just below his ear.

      “Come with us. The night’s not quite over yet.”

      Elliot looked around the pool area, and noted that they were definitely alone. Then, he looked to Xavier, who had stood up and walked a slight distance away toward the pool house. The tall man nodded toward the detached building, clearly beckoning for Salem to join him. Galicia lifted him by his arm pits and herded him along. Xavier met them at the door.

      “Come on in, we’re bunking in here tonight like we usually do on the fourth.”

      Once he was inside, Galicia wasted no time carefully divesting him of his shirt. He shivered, a bit uncertain what the pair had in mind, but before he could ask, the pretty woman stripped off her bikini top and began working free of the bottoms. Salem stood frozen in inaction. She stepped toward him locking her brilliant, impossibly green eyes on his hazel ones, and then, reaching out with both of her hands, pressed her palms against his chest.

      “Your heart is pounding. Don’t be afraid.”

      From behind him he heard, to his dismay, the zipper of Xavier’s jeans. The rasping sound tore through his consciousness, and he fought to squelch his fear flight reaction. Staring into Galicia’s twinkling eyes, Elliot resisted the urge to turn and face the artist, and then flinched when the man’s strong hands grasped his shoulders, and his mustached lips grazed his ultra- sensitive skin when he started suckling the left side of his taut neck before nibbling at his ear lobe.

      “No reason we can’t all feel some love tonight. Just relax, Elliot. This is how we roll when we find the right person. Nobody is going to hurt you. Galicia, his pants love, I want to see his lovely little ass with my own eyes.”

      Salem just stood there, stock still in between the pair trembling while Xavier seemed to target every minute detail of his back with his hands, lips and tongue. Galicia did the same to his chest and stomach, nipping and sucking at his abs and the fine line of light brown hair running down from his navel.

      In his 23 years he’d only had sex with his wife, and that had been the sex of drunken, drugged, un-initiated children. She always wanted to fuck, and he’d obliged her. This, though, was turning into something far more sensual.

      He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been even moderately aroused. It was so long ago, and buried beneath a mountain of horrible memories. He wasn’t like the others in the team. He just tamped down that part of himself. It was a weakness that he needed to control, deny and forget. Sex was pain. Sex was domination, a shameful game ending in his ultimate submission and degradation. Sex was fear. Fear had always played a pivotal role in his twisted sexual life, and now he fought to force it down into a place so deep that he’d be able to for once find enjoyment it the act.

      After dispatching the fear, he sobbed slightly as a wave of guilt swept through him. What would Jennifer say? But his Jennifer was long dead, unable to say anything, and if she loved him, truly loved him she’d want him to stop suffering and to live again. In reality he’d never really ever truly lived. No, he thought shuddering, to just finally live. He wasn’t being dis-loyal, he couldn’t be dis-loyal to a dead woman, or could he?

      He ignored the press of Xavier’s against his back, a position that typically filled him with terror and shame. Unsure of his role, he finally gave in, and tangled his trembling fingers in the eager woman’s black hair guiding her ministrations. The un-familiar, powerful sensation surprised when he finished and his knees buckled. Xavier was there though, and wrapping him in his strong arms held him up.

      Content with her work, Galicia leaned back onto the soft bed of sleeping bags, and beckoned Elliot to join her. Xavier pushed him gently from behind, sinking down along with him in front of the highly sensual woman.

      “She’s yours for the taking, Elliot. Go ahead. Just give yourself a minute to regroup. That’s my boy, lean back into me, and just let the feelings flow.”

      Elliot, never one to disobey an order, leaned back against Xavier’s broad chest, and allowed the older man to coax him back to life. Soon enough he was ready once again. The woman smiled at the sight, and tugged at his left hand guiding him in between her strong thighs. He scooted forward on his knees and she spread her legs wider to accommodate him. To his six, Xavier was liberally coating himself with some Sandalwood scented oil that he’d scavenged from the pool house cupboard.

      Galicia had Salem’s face between her hands guiding him down for a kiss. It was all so new and he feared doing something wrong and disappointing her. He paused and tensed when Xavier slid in behind him again. There was no pain though; only the artist’s soothing hand rubbing his lower back along with encouraging words whispered into his left ear. Elliot relaxed relishing in the new sensations. It all felt good, too good. It was unlike any other time in his past that he’d suffered such a penetration.

      Salem was shaking, and when Xavier pulled free. He rolled from in between the gasping couple and onto his back. He couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t see or hear. All he seemed capable of, was just lying there in the couple’s make shift bed trembling.

      Finally, Xavier got them up, and they slipped from the pool house and to the dimly lit pool.

      “Just sit on the edge, the first step here. You can’t get the tattoo wet. Gal will clean you up.”

      So, Elliot sat watching Xavier breast stroke away from them across the swirling, crystal clear pool. He was in fine shape Elliot noted, as Galicia carefully cleansed him, finally finishing by pouring a small bucket of water back across his sweat soaked head before running her strong fingers through it and massaging his scalp.

      “It suits you long. Once the Army kick’s you free, you should keep it that way.”

      Then, Xavier was back, and Galicia pushed away across the pool. He moved in between Salem’s knees, and settled there looking questioningly into his sleepy hazel eyes.

      “Better get on in to bed, Elliot. You’re about out of it now, and it wouldn’t due, come morning, for them to find us all in here in a tangled up, sexy mess.”

      The mere idea of Rios naked with Xavier and Galicia got him moving. He returned to the pool house, quickly dressed, and after a round of tender kisses from the couple, he slipped quietly back into the main house and his assigned room.

      When Salem awoke around 1045 hours the next day, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling for a bit. The two guys staying in the room along with Secour and him were in the shower, so he had to wait his turn. He played the previous night’s events back in his mind and was shocked when he became aroused. Groaning, he closed his eyes and tried, to no avail, to will the un-anticipated problem away. What was he becoming?

      While he waited his turn he tried to comprehend why he’d behaved as he had the night before, but It would be years before he’d admit to himself exactly how formative the strange events had been to his sexual identity, let alone to relinquish his deep seated resolve of keeping un-requited that first shocking flash of his heart’s true desires that he’d experienced while caught in the throes of his first true sexual experience

      Finally, the pair came out wrapped in towels, laughing at some joke that one or the other had initiated. He slipped down from the bed, careful to hide his arousal from the men, and after noting that Secour was already up and gone, hit the shower. Ten minutes later, after carefully applying the lotion Xavier had provided him to his tattoo, he started to re-enter the bedroom room, but paused. He felt bigger, older even. It was an odd sensation, and he frowned trying to place it. He studied his visage in the condensation moistened mirror and sighed. His beard and moustache were grown out, and after running his fingers though the light brown, five day old stubble, he decided not to trim it. It was, for him, a sign of adulthood, albeit a fickle one. Then, he ran his fingers experimentally through his damp hair, finally dragging a ragged part through the center, and brushing his grown out bangs back and off of his forehead to the right and the left. Content with his new appearance, he exited the steamy room, back into the bedroom.                                                                                                                                            

      Ignoring the two men dressing, and amicably teasing one another, Elliot dug around in his duffle, retrieving the size thirty-two blue Levis, a white tee shirt, socks and then, at the last minute, the dark brown, leather belt with its silver buckle that he’d purchased while out shopping alone. No one had seen the belt yet, and feeling a touch of pride in his secret purchase, he smiled. The buckle was a large oval, nearly the size of his fist, made from sterling silver with the symbol for the Ranger’s on it. He’d loved it upon first sight, but then, after buying it, he felt somewhat nervous about actually wearing it. He feared that he’d be taken as being a braggart or pretentious.      

      After slipping into the snug Levis, Elliot laced the coveted belt through their loops. Fuck them, he thought. He was a Ranger, and he’d damned sure earned the title. Then, he began to carefully pull the shirt over his wet head trying not to muss his new hair, but stopped. The sleeves had to go. After several minutes of careful trimming with his Randall knife, under the curious gaze of his roommates, the sleeves of the shirt were removed from the point where they’d met the shirt’s body and Salem pulled it over his head. It hugged his torso, tactfully accenting his ever thickening muscles, but more importantly, his new tattoo was now visible in its entirety. Finally, he tucked the middle four inches of the front of the shirt into his jeans behind the new buckle, and slipped his new silver chain from within the shirt leaving it prominently exposed on his ever broadening chest.

      The pair of men stared at him, somewhat bemused, Salem’s strange transformation catching them by surprise. He’d looked nothing like this the day before.

      “What?”

      “Nothing man, you just, it's a nice look’s all. Awesome tat. See you at breakfast.”

      Content with his alterations, Salem took a moment to preform one last task before re-joining the gathering. He closed and locked the bedroom door, and after taking several deep, calming breaths began to recite the old mantra from his boyhood, while visualizing his dead wife and daughter as vividly as possible in his mind’s eye. It was time to let go.

_“I see you both, my beautiful girls, inside my mind._

_I send you far so far away._

_I watch you march into the earth; away, away and there’s no more pain._

_I hold the key to seal your fate._

_To lock away the pain I hate._

_Your deaths can’t hurt me anymore._

_I’ve locked you up and slammed the door_.

 

      He pictured them walking down deep into the earth via a long dark tunnel. At the end, barely visible, he visualized a great iron door, with a huge bronze lock, and in his right hand he imagined clutching the huge key that fit it. Visualization clear and frighteningly real in his mind he whispered the secret words to finish the ritual.

_Now I’ve gone, and locked you up._

_And now I’ll hide my secret key._

_If by chance I make things right_

_I’ll let you back into my life._

 

      It hurt. It hurt, but he willed away the tears burning his eyes. He was now free to move ahead, and maybe, just maybe someday when he was stronger he’d let them out again. If nothing else at least he’d free Ellie, his little girl, because after all, she’d done nothing wrong and had never hurt him. Now, though he was, and could finally be Corporal Elliot Nicholas Salem, a very strong, capable man. He was a trained soldier, Ranger, Sniper and frighteningly loyal comrade to his team. He was despite the horror of his childhood a good man, and when he walked out into Gabe’s living room, all that he’d been he’d be leaving behind. He was finally a man, and this was a brand new day.

 


	8. Although it is labled as Eight this is the M version of seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot takes some huge steps into the future after experiencing a side of life he'd previously feared. Graphic content of the sexual type so please heed my warnings.

_Fourth of July_

_Gabe Benedict's House_

_ 1993 _

Chapter Seven

_**WARNING:** _ **_ GRAPHIC _ ** _ M/M/F sexual material _

_This chapter contains graphic M/M/F sexual content. It will be posted in a Gen version probably tomorrow. I realize this story began Gen, but it has taken astrange twist for chapters six and seven. I need to work out how to progress this story without the graphic content, and still carry the necessary plot points needed for my backstory along._

_Thanks for your understanding_

 

 

      Two hours later the trio was completely alone on the pool terrace, as Xavier completed Salem’s dragon. Galicia had begun cleaning up the tattoo booth, and Salem watched, drowsily sipping on a beer. Finally Xavier leaned back cracked his thick neck and studied his work.

      “Done and I love it if I say so myself. I want some pictures if that’s ok by you.”

      “Sure thing. It’s incredible. I never thought I’d have something so sweet, thanks.”

      “I meant to ask, why a dragon?”

      Salem pondered the question. He hated discussing the hurtful events of his childhood and this, if he choose to give Xavier a response was one of the most painful. The man had given up hours working on the dragon though, and Elliot’s sense of reciprocation finally moved him to respond honestly.

      “Had someone once, when I was around six that really did try to care for me. When the state took, no, when the family after promising me a place, promising to adopt me forever, threw me away, he gave me a little ceramic dragon. He said to keep it close, that it would watch over me since he couldn’t, and I promised him to. He promised to find me, but…Anyway, I lost it. I figured that everything bad after that was my punishment for losing it, breaking my promise. Then, on that fucking mountain in Sarajevo, I fell asleep. I was wiped out, and I dreamed about this dragon. This dragon just like this one, and it told me to move my ass. I jumped up just in time to save my stupid self. Now, thanks to you I won’t ever lose him again. I’ll be safe forever now.”

      Xavier sighed and gently pressed the final length of tape down along the large white bandage that would protect the new tattoo. The younger man’s voice had been thick with deeply buried, painful emotion, actually breaking and he knew, in his heart that Elliot meant, and had believed in every word he’d uttered. He regretted being as cold and pragmatic as he’d been while discussing Samantha and Rios’ behavior.

      “There, all set, Elliot and you understand how to care for it right?”

      “Sure thanks, and good night I guess.”

      “In a hurry?”

      “What?” Salem spluttered, flinching slightly when Galicia grasped his shoulders from behind, surprised by the warmth of her breath whispering across the side of his neck just below his ear.

      “Come with us. The night’s not quite over yet.”

      Elliot looked around the pool area, and noted that they were definitely alone. Then, he looked to Xavier, who had stood up and walked a slight distance away toward the pool house. The tall man nodded toward the detached building, clearly beckoning for Salem to join him. Galicia lifted him by his arm pits and herded him along. Xavier met them at the door.

      “Come on in, we’re bunking in here tonight like we usually do on the fourth.”

      Once he was inside, Galicia wasted no time carefully divesting him of his shirt. He shivered, a bit uncertain what the pair had in mind, but before he could ask, the pretty woman stripped off her bikini top and began working free of the bottoms. Salem stood frozen in inaction. She stepped toward him locking her brilliant, impossibly green eyes on his hazel ones, and then, reaching out with both of her hands, pressed her palms against his chest.

      “Your heart is pounding. Don’t be afraid.”

      From behind him he heard, to his dismay, the zipper of Xavier’s jeans. The rasping sound tore through his consciousness, and he fought to squelch his fear flight reaction. Staring into Galicia’s twinkling eyes, Elliot resisted the urge to turn and face the artist, and then flinched when the man’s strong hands grasped his shoulders, and his mustached lips grazed his ultra- sensitive skin when he started suckling the left side of his taut neck before nibbling at his ear lobe.

      “No reason we can’t all feel some love tonight. Just relax, Elliot. This is how we roll when we find the right person. Nobody is going to hurt you. Galicia, his pants love, I want to see his lovely little ass with my own eyes.”

      Salem just stood there, stock still in between the pair trembling while Xavier seemed to target every minute detail of his back with his hands, lips and tongue. Galicia did the same to his chest and stomach, nipping and sucking at his abs and the fine line of light brown hair running down from his navel.

      In his 23 years he’d only had sex with his wife, and that had been the sex of drunken, drugged, un-initiated children. She always wanted to fuck, and he’d obliged her. This, though, was turning into something far more sensual.

      Elliot was hard, harder than he’d recalled ever being. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been even moderately aroused. It was so long ago, and buried beneath a mountain of horrible memories. He wasn’t like the others in the team. He just tamped down that part of himself. It was a weakness that he needed to control, deny and forget. Sex was pain. Sex was domination, a shameful game ending in his ultimate submission and degradation. Sex was fear. Fear had always played a pivotal role in his twisted sexual life, and now he fought to force it down into a place so deep that he’d be able to for once find enjoyment it the act.

      After dispatching the fear, he sobbed slightly as a wave of guilt swept through him. What would Jennifer say? But his Jennifer was long dead, unable to say anything, and if she loved him, truly loved him she’d want him to stop suffering and to live again. In reality he’d never really ever truly lived. No, he thought shuddering, to just finally live. He wasn’t being dis-loyal, he couldn’t be dis-loyal to a dead woman, or could he?

      When Galicia slipped down onto her knees, and took him into her mouth Elliot nearly came un-done. The sensation of her tightly pursed lips wrapped round his twitching cock drove away any further fear, or guilt that he felt, and he ignored the press of Xavier’s equally roused cock against his ass, a sensation that typically filled him with terror and shame. Galicia worked her mouth up and down his shaft, while Xavier continued to ply Salem’s goose bump flecked back with kisses and tender touches.

      Unsure of his role, he finally gave in, and tangled his trembling fingers in the eager woman’s black hair guiding her up and down. When he came, he came incredible hard. The un-familiar sensation surprised him and his knees buckled. Xavier was there though, and wrapping him in his strong arms held him up.

      Content with her work, Galicia leaned back onto the soft bed of sleeping bags, and beckoned Elliot to join her. Xavier pushed him gently from behind, sinking down along with him in front of the highly sensual woman. Smiling at the pair, she spread her legs and teased her swollen, moist lips.

      “She’s yours for the taking, Elliot. Go ahead.” Xavier prodded reaching around Salem’s thin waist and milking his slick cock back to life. “Just give yourself a minute to regroup. That’s my boy, lean back into me, and just let the feelings flow.”

      Elliot, never one to disobey an order, leaned back against Xavier’s broad chest, and allowed the older man to coax his weeping cock back to life. Watching Galicia’s self-stimulation helped and soon enough he was as hard as he’d been the first time. The woman smiled at the sight, and tugged at his left hand guiding him in between her strong thighs. He scooted forward on his knees and she spread her legs wider to accommodate him. To his six, Xavier was liberally coating his cock with some Sandalwood scented oil that he’d scavenged from the pool house cupboard.

      Galicia had Salem’s face between her hands guiding him down toward her swollen nipples. He latched onto the right and after suckling it gently began to flick at the puffy hard nub with his tongue. It was all so new and he feared doing something wrong and disappointing her. He paused and tensed when Xavier slid a single, slick probing finger into his ass. There was no pain, only the artist’s soothing hand rubbing Elliot’s lower back along with encouraging words whispered into his left ear. Elliot relaxed relishing in the new sensations. It all felt good, too good. It was unlike any other time in his past that he’d suffered such a penetration.

      Finally, Galicia guided him into herself, as Xavier simultaneously wriggled and withdrew the single finger, and slowly inserted two. Elliot gasped at the duel sensations of having his prostrate worked for the first time and of feeling the warm, wet clutching of Galicia’s spasming pussy. He’d never dreamed he could feel the way he was now. He pulled out to midway along his cock, and as he pressed in again, Xavier removed his teasing fingers and with all the care he could manage, gingerly pushed his oiled cock into Salem’s ass. Elliot froze, anticipating the pain he so vividly recalled, but that pain did not come. Instead, he found himself pushing backwards needing more of what Xavier was offering. Galicia tensed her muscles squeezing him, and the feel of that hot, wet pressure on his cock drove him on.

      Once sheathed fully in Salem, Xavier fucked him, slowly pushing into Elliot who in turn pushed into Galicia. They worked as a team moving in unison. Xavier pushing into him, while kissing his neck and shoulders and pinching his hardened nipples, while in turn, he drove his cock into Galicia. For Elliot, it was all some mad crazy dream. He struggled to keep the pace slow, to try and draw the moment out, but his body wanted, needed completion. Xavier read his desperate desire and sped up a bit driving into him forcefully, but safely. Salem rose to the challenge following suit by matching the man’s thrusts with his own into Galicia, who was now arching her hips so that her swollen clit ground against Elliot’s pubic bone. He could tell that she too was very close to release, and when Xavier reached around his shoulder and cupped her right breast in his hand, swirling his pursed tongue in his right ear, Salem gave up and began to fuck her with abandon. The artist followed suit, and in moments the trio climaxed together.

      Salem was shaking, and when Xavier pulled free, he thought that he’d die without the feel of the man’s cock in his twitching ass. He slid from Galicia, rolled from in between the gasping couple and onto his back. He couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t see or hear. All he seemed capable of, was just lying there in the couple’s make shift bed trembling.

      Finally, Xavier got them up, and they slipped from the pool house and to the dimly lit pool.

      “Just sit on the edge, the first step here. You can’t get the tattoo wet. Gal will clean you up.”

      So, Elliot sat watching Xavier breast stroke away from them across the swirling, crystal clear pool. He was in fine shape Elliot noted, as Galicia carefully cleansed him, finally finishing by pouring a small bucket of water back across his sweat soaked head before running her strong fingers through it and massaging his scalp.

      “It suits you long. Once the Army kick’s you free, you should keep it that way.”

      Then, Xavier was back, and Galicia pushed away across the pool. He moved in between Salem’s knees, and settled there looking questioningly into his sleepy hazel eyes.

      “Your turn.”

      “You said I…”

      Before he finished Xavier dipped his head beneath the warm water, swallowed his limp cock and began sucking it back to life. Elliot was surprised that he was even able to respond again. Twice seemed a bit much, but three times. When he was fully erect, Xavier stepped from the warm water and dragged Salem along with him back into the pool house.

      Once inside, he retrieved the Sandalwood oil and gingerly coated Salem’s cock. The young man knew exactly what Xavier wanted, and he fought down panic. This was something he’d never done before, and had sworn that he’d never do. The older man set the oil aside, and settled back onto the mussed bedroll pulling Salem down with him. He spread his knees and raised his ass a bit to get his point across. Salem moved hesitantly forward, and after Xavier settled his left leg over Salem’s right shoulder, he nodded for the younger man to begin. Elliot once again obeyed, and warily slipped his oil sickened cock into the artist’s ass. The tightness immediately frightened him, and he stopped. He’d never hurt someone like he’d been hurt. He was a better person than that, and Xavier had been so good to him. Galicia finished with her swim settled in behind him and while whispering words of encouragement ushered him forward. Finally, he complied slowly moving into and out of Xavier.

      Once she’d calmed Elliot, Galicia settled onto the pallet in front of the pair just with in Salem’s eye line and began pleasure herself again. Salem tore his eyes away and focused on Xavier. The man was clawing at his tight buttocks trying to get him to move faster. Elliot did, and the artist arched his head back exposing his corded neck clearly enjoying Salem’s inexperienced work.

      Just when Salem thought nothing new could possibly occur to him that night, Galicia got up and settled down upon Xavier’s face, and as Salem watched, the man sucked and teased her with his lips and tongue, while she leaned forward taking the writhing artist’s cock into her mouth clear to his balls. The sight of the oral acts got him moving and he grabbed Xavier’s hips, yanking them upwards to meet his thrusts. It was insanity, Salem thought. He was coming again even harder than the first two times, the heat and tightness of Xavier’s ass was un-believably sensual. He needed more, needed to get deeper and Xavier complied by arching his hips and affording Salem as much access as he was capable of. Finally, Elliot climaxed in uncontrollable shudders, and the strange couple was right there with him. Lost in the a haze of emotion and sensation he pounded into Xavier with several, final body and mind shuddering thrusts as his climax ground to its slow conclusion. Completely overwhelmed, he again rolled away to regroup. The pair finally finished up as well, and after lying nested together for a short time Xavier broke the silence.

      “Better get on in to bed, Elliot. You’re about out of it now, and it wouldn’t due, come morning, for them to find us all in here in a tangled up, sexy mess.”

      The mere idea of Rios seeing him sprawled about with Xavier and Galicia got him moving. He quickly dressed, and after a round of tender kisses from the couple, he slipped quietly from the little pool house.

      When Salem awoke around 1045 hours the next day, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling for a bit. The two guys staying in the room along with Secour and him were in the shower, so he had to wait his turn. He played the previous night’s events back in his mind and was shocked when he became hard. Groaning, he closed his eyes and tried, to no avail, to will the un-anticipated erection away. What was he becoming? Finally, the pair came out wrapped in towels, laughing at some joke that one or the other had initiated.

      He slipped down from the bed, careful to hide his arousal from the pair, and after noting that Secour was already up and gone, hit the shower. Once in the stall, he studied his now somewhat flagging cock. He’d never pleasured himself before. He’d never had the urge, or the need. Before last night, sex was an activity he feared. It was a weapon that the strong used to persecute the weak.

      Cautiously, he grasped it in his right hand and squeezed. After several tentative strokes he was hard again, and nearly desperate for more. He measured out a dollop of the body soap setting on the shower stall’s corner shelf, into his palm. Sandalwood, the all too familiar scent sent a flurry of skittering goose bumps down his spine along with a roiling, fiery tingle through his gut. He closed his eyes against the flood of memory, vividly recalling how Xavier’s cock had felt in his ass, along with the sight of him preforming orally on Galicia.

      He began stroking himself vigorously, imagining that his fist was Xavier’s ass. The sensation was overwhelming and Elliot bit into his lower lip to keep from moaning aloud, while driving his hips forward and up into his tightly clenched right fist. The un-familiar lack of control both frightened and excited him. Finally, he climaxed and dropped to his knees, terrified and confused that the final image that he’d seen, and the final name on his lips as he’d come had not been Xavier’s. Disturbed by the revelation, he stayed down, letting the water pound the back of his throbbing head until he stopped trembling. It would be years before he’d admit to himself exactly how formative the previous night’s events had been to his sexual identity, let alone to relinquish his deep seated resolve of keeping that first, shocking flash of his heart’s true desires un-requited.

      Ten minutes later, after carefully applying the lotion Xavier had provided to his tattoo, he started to re-enter the bedroom room, but paused. He felt bigger, older even. It was an odd sensation, and he frowned trying to place it. He studied his visage in the condensation moistened mirror and sighed. His beard and moustache were grown out, and after running his fingers though the light brown, five day old stubble, he decided not to trim it. It was, for him, a sign of adulthood, albeit a fickle one. Then, he ran his fingers experimentally through his damp hair, finally dragging a ragged part through the center, and brushing his grown out bangs back and off of his forehead to the right and the left. Content with his new appearance, he exited the steamy room, back into the bedroom.  

      Ignoring the two men dressing, and amicably teasing one another, Elliot dug around in his duffle, retrieving the size thirty-two blue Levis, a white tee shirt, socks and then, at the last minute, the dark brown, leather belt with its silver buckle that he’d purchased while out shopping alone. No one had seen the belt yet, and feeling a touch of pride in his secret purchase, he smiled. The buckle was a large oval, nearly the size of his fist, made from sterling silver with the symbol for the Ranger’s on it. He’d loved it upon first sight, but then, after buying it, he felt somewhat nervous about actually wearing it. He feared that he’d be taken as being a braggart or pretentious.      

      After slipping into the snug Levis, Elliot laced the coveted belt through their loops. Fuck them, he thought. He was a Ranger, and he’d damned sure earned the title. Then, he began to carefully pull the shirt over his wet head trying not to muss his new hair, but stopped. The sleeves had to go. After several minutes of careful trimming with his Randall knife, under the curious gaze of his roommates, the sleeves of the shirt were removed from the point where they’d met the shirt’s body and Salem pulled it over his head. It hugged his torso, tactfully accenting his ever thickening muscles, but more importantly, his new tattoo was now visible in its entirety. Finally, he tucked the middle four inches of the front of the shirt into his jeans behind the new buckle, and slipped his new silver chain from within the shirt leaving it prominently exposed on his ever broadening chest.

      The pair of men stared at him, somewhat bemused, Salem’s strange transformation catching them by surprise. He’d looked nothing like this the day before.

      “What?”

      “Nothing man, you just, it's a nice look’s all. Awesome tat. See you at breakfast.”

      Content with his alterations, Salem took a moment to preform one last task before re-joining the gathering. He closed and locked the bedroom door, and after taking several deep, calming breaths began to recite the old mantra from his boyhood, while visualizing his dead wife and daughter as vividly as possible in his mind’s eye. It was time to let go.

_“I see you both, my beautiful girls, inside my mind._

_I send you far so far away._

_I watch you march into the earth; away, away and there’s no more pain._

_I hold the key to seal your fate._

_To lock away the pain I hate._

_Your deaths can’t hurt me anymore._

_I’ve locked you up and slammed the door_.

 

      He pictured them walking down deep into the earth via a long dark tunnel. At the end, barely visible, he visualized a great iron door, with a huge bronze lock, and in his right hand he imagined clutching the huge key that fit it. Visualization clear and frighteningly real in his mind he whispered the secret words to finish the ritual.

_Now I’ve gone, and locked you up._

_And now I’ll hide my secret key._

_If by chance I make things right_

_I’ll let you back into my life._

 

      It hurt. It hurt, but he willed away the tears burning his eyes. He was now free to move ahead, and maybe, just maybe someday when he was stronger he’d let them out again. If nothing else at least he’d free Ellie, his little girl, because after all, she’d done nothing wrong and had never hurt him. Now, though he was, and could finally be Corporal Elliot Nicholas Salem, a very strong, capable man. He was a trained soldier, Ranger, Sniper and frighteningly loyal comrade to his team. He was despite the horror of his childhood a good man, and when he walked out into Gabe’s living room, all that he’d been he’d be leaving behind. He was finally a man, and this was a brand new day.

 


End file.
